Dragons and Phoenixes
by Azulcat
Summary: Two mysterious travelers visit Daret. Frequent attacks by urgals ravage Maylen's town. Maylen is out hunting when a phoenix egg hatches for her, and the bird's magic changes her life. 16th chapter up!
1. Visitors in Daret

Maylen was nodding over her needle and the shawl she was making when she was shaken awake by her stepmother.

"Get up!" Aunt Amelia hissed as she bustled across the bedroom to close the curtains. "Get your bow and hurry up to the roof with your uncle!"

"Why?" Maylen asked. She put her sewing things aside and went to one of the pallets in the room that she shared with her three little sisters.

Her aunt nodded impatiently as she went to hover by the door. "I was getting to that! Two horsemen are entering the village from the north, and all of our archers are gathering on the rooftops, awaiting Trevor's signal. Hurry, and stay hidden!"

Due to the sudden oddly frequent visits to Daret by Empire soldiers and rogue urgals, all the villagers, even women, wore knifes, swords or rapiers belted to their waists. Aunt Amelia's knife bounced against her hip as she walked briskly out of the girl's room and into the kitchen.

Maylen pulled her bow and quiver of arrows out from under the mattress and placed them on top of it. She quickly strung her bow and pulled the strap of the quiver over her shoulder, so it rested diagonally across her back. Then she grabbed a floppy, worn out farmer's hat from under her pillow, and, twisting her long, ebony hair into a untidy bun, pulled the hat over her hair.

Maylen heard a few quiet thumps as her uncle climbed up onto the roof to take his place, and hurried to pull the men's tunic (that she kept in her wardrobe for hunting) over the torso of her dress. If the horsemen were from the Empire, they would laugh that Daret used women as archers. Hopefully they wouldn't happen to glance in her direction and notice her skirts if she had to stand.

Finally ready, Maylen rushed out of the room with her bow and quiver.

As she ascended the attic staircase, Maylen heard her family's dog, Mart, utter a low growl, presumably as he saw the horsemen. She instinctively shushed the dog with her mind, reaching out with her thoughts until she felt the usual tickle that represented a dog's conscience. Visions that weren't hers flashed across her minds eye, and she soothed Mart with calming thoughts and images. The dog moaned and fell silent. Maylen withdrew back into her own mind with a quiet gasp and continued through her house to the messy backyard. Being outside of her own body was always a disturbing feeling, like leaning over a cliff.

The space behind her house was as disorganized as any other backyard in Daret; broken wagon wheels, fractured cutlery, and rusted pans littered the yard. Maylen placed a foot on the rim of a cart wheel leaning against the house and hoisted herself up onto the roof.

As quietly as possible, Maylen crept up next to her uncle, who was crouched behind the peak of the roof. He gave her a brisk nod and shifted slightly, flexing the fingers that stiffly gripped his bow and the arrow he had notched there. He turned away from her, gazing straight through the thatched roof. Maylen knew he was straining his ears for the sound of the horsemen, and, as she slowly drew an arrow, Maylen listened too.

Uncle Theodore had hoped for years for a son to have as an apprentice, to teach him to hunt to help the family business with the butcher shop. But after his fourth daughter was born, and the oldest was nine, Maylen's uncle gave up his hope and instead coached Maylen in archery. He was a harsh but thorough teacher, and by the time Maylen was ten she could shoot a wild deer as accurately as any other Daret archer.

Maylen's hands tightened on her bow as she heard the distant _clip-clop_ of horse hooves plodding down the road. Her nervousness beat its flimsy wings against the inside of her ribcage. The sound of hooves on crusty dirt slowed down, and Maylen heard a low conference between the two riders. Then the sound of horse hooves picking up the pace; they were galloping away.

"Halt!" Trevor suddenly cried, "Put your weapons down! You are surrounded by sixty archers; they will shoot you if you move."

_Sixty-_one_ archers, actually,_ Maylen thought, as she rose in unison with the other archers, credit to hours of rehearsal with Trevor in the days before. Very few people in Daret knew that Maylen helped her father with the butcher shop; even fewer knew that she was a proficient archer. Those that did had been forced to swear they would not tell anyone. Maylen couldn't and wouldn't put up with the jeers and jokes the Daret boys would make.

Maylen raised herself just high enough so she could brace her knee against the ridge of the roof. She aimed at the two horsemen, pulling the string back to her cheek and clutching the shaft of the arrow tightly.

There was a boy, about Maylen's age, and an old man. The boy rode a giddy chestnut gelding that pranced a little when surprised by Trevor, but the boy soothed it. Maylen's eyes widened when she realized he had spoken no words. The thought flashed across her mind: _Are there others who can speak to animals with their thoughts?_ The boy lowered his bow at Trevor's words, as did the man his sword. The old man sat astride a proud, gorgeous white stallion that also seemed to calm by no spoken word. The man looked coolly surprised as he was confronted by Trevor.

The two men talked. The boy was looking around restlessly; Maylen watched his eyes move from Trevor to the old man to the archers on the roofs. Maylen studied him; the sun-tanned skin, the wiry muscles, and the tussled brown hair. She saw the sheathed sword at his waist and raised her brows; that hilt looked far too ornamental to be purchased by a poor traveler. Or _had_ he bought it?

The ruby in the pommel of the sword winked at her in the sunlight.


	2. Hatchling

**Second Chapter is up! **

**Featuring**

**A visit to Daret by the Empire**

**A death warrant**

**Maylen hunting**

**An egg that hatches**

**Enjoy! **

Maylen looked at Trevor. The burly, middle aged man had relaxed slightly. He was listening to the old man recite a list of supplies, as far as Maylen could tell. She heard him say 'gloves', and 'nephew'. What on earth were the gloves for? And was the boy really his nephew? The boy looked too young and the man too old to be nephew and uncle.

Maylen rolled her shoulders. She was stiff from holding her position. Around her, the other archers were calming down a little too, as the threat of any danger seemed to have passed.

Trevor signaled for an archer on one of the roofs. The man slipped off the roof and ran up. Trevor spoke to him quietly, and the soldier nodded and went into one of the houses.

The two men talked. At one point Trevor took a step back, as if shocked. Presently the soldier came back, arms laden with merchandise. They were passed to the old man, who handed a pair of worn but durable leather gloves to his 'nephew'; the boy pulled them on and flexed his fingers experimentally. The man then began organizing the goods into their saddlebags.

Nothing exciting happened after that. The travelers exchanged farewells with Trevor and urged their horses into a trot out of the town.

The archers left the roofs, and typical daily life returned. People slowly began filtering out of the houses and went back to their work. Soon the streets were bustling with people; vendors called out their wares, the blacksmith rang and clanged, and kids wound around carts and screeching adults' legs.

Maylen sat on the roof of her house, oblivious to it all. There was something strange going on, something that tied in with the strange attacks of urgals and bandits, and visits to her town by mysterious travelers. Something strange was happening, and Maylen desperately wanted to know.

About two weeks after the two horsemen came to Daret, a group of soldiers from the Empire entered the village. Standard procedures took place, minus the archers. The soldiers spoke to Trevor and showed him a poster with the likeness of the boy that had accompanied the old man into Daret a fortnight before.

After the soldiers left, leaving behind the poster, Trevor had a conference with a few of the merchants of Daret, which included Maylen's uncle. Uncle Theodore came home with a haunted expression on his face.

"The Empire has a tall reward on that boy's head," he told his family, "as well as a death sentence to anyone who has helped him or his companions. Trevor told the soldiers that he and his have never seen the likes of the lad. Saved our hides, he has, but it was close…" Maylen's uncle refused to say more.

That night, as Maylen settled under her sheets, Janie, the second-oldest child of the family, piped up, as usual. Janie was known as the chatterbox.

"So, we'd all be dead by now if it hadn't been for Trevor, huh," she murmured as she lay on her pallet.

"Pretty much." That was the youngest, Lily.

"Good thing he lied. I wonder if they've caught the boy yet. What did father say the boy's name was? Ragon? Eragon. I wonder how they got his picture. I mean, you'd actually have to take a good look at someone's face to draw a whole picture. You know?" She chattered on. Maylen rolled her eyes; it would take forever to get to sleep with Jaime one league away.

The second youngest, Maraline, was bent over a drawing tablet, sketching away. A candle stump at her side shivered its light over her face and the sketch she was making. Maraline was the quieter sister, some would say shy, but she simply had a way of making herself invisible in crowds.

Jaime continued to talk. "Who was that old man with him? Do you think that he's still with him? I mean, if _I_ learned that someone I was traveling with was a… a thief or something, I would stop traveling with him right away!"

"Oh, I think he must have been more than a thief to have a prize like that on his head." Maylen commented sleepily from her pallet.

"Yeah, probably. Well, g'night…" within a few minutes Jaime was fast asleep. Lily's breathing slowed as well, and soon Maylen and Maraline were the only ones awake, the latter still sketching away.

Maylen couldn't find sleep. She lay awake, turning this way and that, trying to keep her eyes closed. Every time she closed them, the image of the boy on the rewards sheet sprung up in her minds eye, like a warning. Thinking and frowning, Maylen fell asleep long after Maraline snuffed out her candle.

After a few weeks the citizens of Daret calmed down about the rewards poster. A few urgal sieges were quickly snuffed by the archers. The girls continued with their lessons of reading and writing. Maraline persisted with her art, Jaime read her few books, little Lily charmed people on the street, and Maylen practiced archery in secret.

Maylen hated it.

_I'm so _bored, she thought moodily. _I want to _do_ something, other than just sit around and help father._

Maylen was lazily shooting a stump by the Ninor when one of her arrows splintered on a rock embedded in the wood. She swore quietly with one of her father's many-a-time used cusses and went to look at the damage. The arrow couldn't be fixed, she concluded, with _that_ incision.

Maylen straightened and sighed. She leaned against a tree and listened to the river gurgle and bubble through the trees somewhere to her left. She was about to un-string her bow when movement in her peripheral vision made her stop. Slowly raising her head, Maylen beheld a small horde of deer picking their way through the tiny forest. One, a young doe, froze as it saw her. Maylen gently touched its mind, reassuring the creature. A few moments later the doe turned away from her and followed the other deer out of sight.

Maylen waited a little, then walked in the direction the deer had gone, being careful to stay quiet. Pausing every now and then to listen for them, she finally came upon a small clearing where the deer serenely chewed on the grass.

Crouching behind a bush, Maylen peered around the leaves and picked out her target: the doe that had seen her before. She drew an arrow and, rising just enough to walk, made her way around the bush. Then she slipped.

Maylen had stepped on a large, partially buried stone, slick from recent rain. She flung out her elbow to catch her fall and jarred her arm as she hit the ground. The deer, startled, pranced away through the trees. Maylen winced as a stab of pain ran up her arm when she struggled to get up. She cast out recklessly with her thoughts, trying to reach the deer, but they were long gone.

Furious, Maylen set about gathering the arrows that had fallen out of her quiver. As she did she glanced at the rock she had slipped on. Then she looked at it again.

The exposed part of the stone was of a color she had never seen in a rock before; a deep, almost translucent red. Maylen reached out to touch it – it was smoother than any rock she had ever felt… and slightly warm, too.

Maylen withdrew her hand. This was _not_ a normal rock. Maylen's mother had always told her never to meddle with magic, but Maylen's curiosity got the better of her. She laid her palm on the rock; it warmed her hand.

Maylen was overwhelmed with interest, and she began to scrape away at the dirt around the rock. When she had dug it out of the ground, Maylen gingerly picked it up.

The stone was large and heavy, though not as heavy as she had expected. As she turned it over in her hands, amazed, Maylen felt a small prick against her palm.

Startled, she dropped it. Maylen heard a small peep, and jumped. The stone was now rocking back and forth on the ground.

Maylen stood up. Whatever kind of stone this was, she didn't like it. She was backing away when she saw a small crack appear on the surface. Surprised, Maylen leaned down and squinted.

Something was poking its way out! As the cracks widened and split, Maylen realized that it wasn't a stone, but an _egg._

A small, pointed black tooth rapped and rapped until part of the red shell fell away. Then another, and another, until the whole side of the egg crumbled away, and a peculiar creature stumbled out.


	3. Tattoo

**A/N: Thanks to Lichenstar, BlindSeer220, Feng Yue, Star Holder Commander, and anyone else who reviewed after I posted this story. This chapter presents the turning point of Maylen's life…**

**Featuring:**

**A hungry phoenix hatchling**

**A tattoo **

**A suspicious mother**

**R&R! Stuff will get a little more exciting after this! **

**Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Chapter 3 **

It was some kind of bird. The thing had large, closed eyes and a head that almost outsized its downy, slightly moist body. The wings were small, like any baby bird, and raised away from its body as if for balance. The tail was oddly long and parted into two tufts of feathers; smoky orange like the rest of it's down. It chirped.

Astounded, Maylen cautiously reached out a hand to the bird's round head. The creature opened its tiny, curved beak and peeped piteously. It nestled against her hand.

At once Maylen recoiled in pain. It laced up her arm from the hand that had touched the bird and spread through her body like a poison. She fell to the ground, writhing, clenching her teeth in agony. The pain throbbed throughout her whole body, then, as suddenly as it had started, faded away.

Maylen was left gasping, clutching her left hand, which still tingled with tiny daggers of pain. She looked at it, and watched as a strange red symbol faded into her palm and extended down her wrist.

It was a moment before she realized that the symbol on her palm was the rough figure of a bird, with a long neck curved towards her thumb and wings that spread wide right and left. Two thin tails spread from the tiny body and wrapped around her wrist, reaching halfway to her elbow.

Maylen could've sworn that a miniscule ruby eye flashed in the head of the bird tattoo.

She looked suspiciously at the hatchling peeping before her. _What was that?_

The bird seemed to have no idea what had just occurred. It hobbled about, cheeping when it bumped into a root or rock.

Maylen jumped when she felt an alien conscious touch her mind. It was like a vast space of _nothing,_ like a void. A powerful sense of hunger emanated from it.

Smiling, Maylen reached into her satchel and pulled out a crust of bread, saved from her lunch. She held it close to the hatchling's beak.

The bird slowly, almost reluctantly opened its eyes.

The eyes weren't a beady black, like most birds Maylen knew, but had slits, like a cat. The whites of its eyes were slightly milky and tinted red. Maylen flinched as she remembered some of the tales she'd heard of foul demons, with red eyes, but she was startled by the bird touching her mind again. It felt curious, like a question.

It couldn't be a demon, which were completely fiction. Maylen reprimanded herself and held the bread closer. The bird cocked its head at it, and shuffled forward with its large claws. It opened its beak and snapped up the morsel. Maylen watched in fascination as the bird swallowed it whole, and then chirped for more.

Maylen spread her hands. "No more," she told it, "I have no more bread, sorry."

The bird shuffled forward, demanding more with its mind.

Sighing, Maylen placed her satchel on the ground and opened it. Reaching out for the bird's mind, and gesturing at the bag, she thought, _I have no more bread._ The creature might not understand the words, but it should get the point.

The hatchling decided to ignore her, and poked at the bag suspiciously. Maylen smiled as it crawled inside and stuck its head into one of the pockets. The bulge of its head in the pocket shifted, and there was an angry, muffled peep. The bird weakly attempted to tug out its head, with no prevail. Maylen giggled and gently pulled it out, setting the bird on her lap.

It looked around curiously, and then focused on Maylen. It asked for more food.

Maylen sighed again. "I suppose I'll have to take you home and get more bread," she said aloud. The bird cocked its head and chirped. Maylen reached out with her thoughts and gave the bird an image of her house, then of her kitchen, and the bread in the cupboards. The bird sent a question. Maylen understood it as, 'Are we going there?'

_Yes,_ she replied. Then, just as a precaution, she gave it a picture of her family.

The bird's demeanor changed in an instant. Its fear tore at Maylen's mind as it struggled to get free of her hands, peeping. Maylen held it tighter and attempted to calm it with her mind.

It was a few moments before the fledgling's terrified frenzy diminished to a few embers of fear. Maylen sent a question. The bird replied with flashing images of Maylen's uncle. They were blurred and confusing, but Maylen caught the pictures of him drawing an arrow and shooting… straight at the bird.

_But, that's impossible,_ Maylen thought, bewildered._ The bird just hatched, how could it remember something like that? ... Of course, how could it already know how to talk with its mind?_ The images had been seen through someone, or something else's eyes, so Maylen hadn't actually seen what Uncle Theodore was shooting at. But one thing was certain: the bird could not be exposed to her family.

As Maylen thought about it, she realized that that would have been the case even if the bird hadn't been afraid of her father.

Then she was struck with an idea. She gently placed the hatchling in her satchel and stood up and slowly pulled the bag over her shoulder.

The bird twittered in protest from under her arm, then quieted as it realized the bag was shallow enough to poke its head out. Maylen started walked back towards the river.

As she walked, Maylen grabbed a strip of cloth that she kept in her satchel for emergencies and began wrapping it around her hand and wrist. The strange tattoo still bothered her, but that wasn't top priority at the moment. She could pretend it was a scratch until she found out how to wash it off.

Maylen walked into her house from the back door without the satchel with the strange, chirping baby bird in it. She made it to the kitchen without meeting any of her family, but her aunt was baking something in the kitchen, Maylen could hear her humming and bustling about. She took a deep breath and walked in.

"Back already?" Aunt Amelia said, stoking the fire under the stove.

"Yes, I'm just here to get some bread, I, uh, lost some of it while hunting." Maylen quickly went to the cupboards and pulled them open, grabbing a loaf.

"That much?" her aunt said in surprise.

"Er, had a bit of a run, the deer ran off, so I'm a little hungry."

Her aunt gasped suddenly. "Oh, dear, what happened to your hand?"

As Maylen wrapped up the bread she glanced guiltily at her left hand, where the bandage was starting to unravel. She quickly pulled it tighter.

"That, er, I… uh, scratched myself."

"Let me see it, I'll put some salve on it, wrap it up properly…"

"No, Ma, It doesn't hurt, really." Even though Amelia was Maylen's adoptive mother, she was permitted to call her aunt Mother. After her parents had died ten years ago, her aunt and uncle had been extremely kind.

Amelia paused, squinting at Maylen's face. Maylen smiled reassuringly.

"I'm fine, honest. I'm going to go finish this outside… I want to find those deer." She smiled again and backed out the way she had come, clutching the bread.

"Take care of yourself!" her aunt called after her.

"I will!"


	4. Nest

**Hey peeps, here's the fourth chapter! I changed the second oldest sister's name accidentally, but I like this one better. Janie is now called 'Jaime', everyone; its pronounced 'Jay-mee'. Yes, it's a girl's name.**

**Fourth Chapter**

**Featuring:**

A nest

A chagrined sister

A healed wound

An uncomfortable dinner

A very early morning

**Hope you like this Chapter! R&R **

A few minutes later Maylen was carefully hopping from one slippery rock to another in the river. She found her satchel right where she'd left it, nestled cozily between three branches in a tree on the opposite bank. The baby bird twittered inside.

Maylen smiled and pealed the cloth off the bread, crumbling it into small pieces before offering them to the bird. As the strange creature eagerly dove into the pile of bread crumbs in Maylen's palm, Maylen leaned against the tree and watched it. She wondered if the hatchling was a male or female. She reasoned that most all birds didn't show their gender until they were older, for the males were usually the more colorful and the females with duller feathers. Of course, this bird was unlike any Maylen had ever seen; just the fact that it hatched at the moment Maylen had found it and that it already spoke through thoughts proved it.

She reached out with her mind and, wondering if this was best how it should be approached, inquired if the bird knew its gender.

The hatchling had no idea what Maylen was talking about. She sighed and turned the topic away. As she did, a problem surfaced, one that had been nagging her in the back of her mind, reluctant to be shown. What would she do with the bird?

The simplest way to live without problems would just be to kill it, but Maylen had already disregarded that thought. The bird had only just hatched, and besides, it would simply be _wrong._

The idea of leaving it behind was equally appalling. Maylen feared that wild animals would find it, and a fate to gruesome to conceive would befall the hatchling. No, abandoning the bird was not an option.

The only decent scheme Maylen could come up with was to take care of the bird. It would be hard, because Maylen would have to keep it hidden. She would have to find a way to keep the bird concealed, in this forest. As Maylen scratched the bird's head, she came up with a plan.

Maylen poured the rest of the crumbs into her satchel for the bird to eat, and then reached out for its mind once again. Nudging at its conscious, Maylen thought hard of one word, like the last time she had left for her house.

_Stay. Stay._ The bird sent an indisposed consent. Maylen rushed away, looking over her shoulder constantly until her slightly miffed hatchling was hidden by others on the opposite bank.

_Scene change scene change how do you do these scene changes_

Maylen reached her house a few minutes later. She went through the back door again, but this time crept quietly around the kitchen door and to the hall on the other side of the wall. Maylen slowly made her way to her room, where the door, she was relieved to find, was open.

She heard Lily, Maraline, and Aunt Amelia having the girls' lessons in her parents' room as she passed the closed door. No one was in her room. She took a step forward, and the floor creaked. Maylen froze. She strained her ears for a change in the voices in the room opposite. There was none. Inwardly sighing in relief, she went into her bedroom and went to the wardrobe, where she quickly and quietly removed a few of her ratty aprons and coats that she no longer wore, and her sisters didn't want or need.

"What are you doing?"

The voice made Maylen jump. She turned to see Jaime in the doorway. Her sister was looking at her curiously.

It was a moment before Maylen realized she was staring at Jaime dumbly, at loss for words. She collected her wits and replied, "I found a wounded hare in the forest, and I felt, er, bad for it, so I'm going to try to patch it up…" her voice trailed off.

"Can I come with you?" Jaime asked eagerly.

"Shush! I, er, don't want to disturb Lily's and Maraline's lesson. And no, it's a long ways away."

"I can still – "

"Calm down, Jaime."

"I can still go with you! I'll walk far."

"Jaime, I still have a little more hunting to do, and that will take a while, and you can't come back home alone. The river's too dangerous."

Jaime stuck out her lower lip. "Oh, fine then." She stomped away. Maylen heard the front door slam, and a seemingly eternal pause in the voices in the other room. Then Aunt Amelia said something, and the lesson seemed to continue. Maylen sighed and finished collecting unused clothing, gathering it into a small pile of brown, white, and a few red rags in her arms. When she had what she hoped was a sufficient amount of cloth, Maylen left her house, fortunately without further contact with friend or family.

She got back to her tree a few minutes later. Maylen had been gone about ten minutes, and her bird had been very worried. It expressed this by giving Maylen an enthusiastic sense of relief and pleasure upon her arrival. Maylen smiled and rubbed its head with her un-tattooed hand. Then she carefully put it on the ground, so it could roam as Maylen worked on an improvised nest.

The bird was very curious about its surroundings. It stumbled about, occasionally touching Maylen's mind with a particular image tagged with a nonverbal question. Rather than reply using pictures and feelings, Maylen spoke to it out loud. The hatchling had already shown an unusual amount of intelligence for any animal, and already knew how to speak with its mind, so Maylen had no doubt it was also able to comprehend speech, though she did doubt that it would be able to use it verbally. Most likely it would grow to articulate thoughts and feelings with its intellect.

Maylen set about finding a suitable tree. Eventually she found one with a hole in its trunk, about six feet above the ground. Maylen worried that the bird might fall out, but an examination of the cavity revealed a hedge bordering the bottom of the entry, too high to climb over and stunted enough so that Maylen could take the bird out.

Maylen laid a few rags in the bottom of the cavity, creating a thin but comfortable mattress on the floor. Working blindly but accurately, she cut grips into the interior roof of the hollow, by the entrance. Then she stuffed rags into the newly made incisions, letting most of the fabric hang down in a thick flap-door, which Maylen hoped would be rainproof. She continued making changes and patching up fissures until she believed it was done.

Maylen stepped back to admire her work. She had made sure to have the outer rag be brown, so the door somewhat camouflaged with the tree.

Very few people hunted this far; a few townsfolk of Daret claimed that the small wood was haunted by the ghosts of people who had been killed and consumed by bears or wolves. At first Maylen had believed them, but after her first few hunting lessons with her father in this very forest, she brushed them away as mere fantasies, and perhaps even excuses. So now Maylen knew she could rest assured that it was very unlikely the nest would be found.

She located the hatchling with her mind and brought it to its new temporary home. At first the bird struggled, then obediently pushed through the flap. Maylen held the flap up so she could see the bird. It snuggled into the rags and blinked contentedly at Maylen, touching her mind with a sense of satisfaction.

Maylen glanced up at the sky. The making of the nest had taken a while; the sun was resting behind the trees, casting Maylen and her bird into the shadow of the wood. Maylen knew her family would be worrying about her right about now, so she told the bird to stay no matter _what._ She said that she would be gone a long time, and it would be dark. Maylen explained with mental images. The bird protested in confusion, wondering if its new mother was just going to leave it.

After a few more attempts to get the bird to understand her reasoning, Maylen finally convinced it to stay for the night. She leaned against the tree for a few more minutes, talking to her bird and rubbing its head, then slowly, reluctantly left the hatchling alone.

All the way home Maylen wondered if leaving the baby bird behind was such a good idea. As she made her way through the forest, she acquired a scratch on the back of her right hand from a stickle bush. Rubbing the cut with her thumb, Maylen thought, _Lovely; now I have a _real_ cut to bandage up._

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Maylen suddenly felt nothing under her thumb but smooth skin.

Startled, she squinted through the darkness at her hand; there was no scratch. Puzzled, Maylen supposed that she had just imagined it, and continued on her way.

_Scene Change Scene Change Scene Change Blast it someone tell me how to do these Please_

Maylen entered her kitchen just as Aunt Amelia was setting a steaming plate of soup on the table, around which sat her father and sisters. Her two youngest sisters gave Maylen an enthusiastic "Hullo!" and her father nodded in acknowledgment. Jaime shot her a wounded expression before asking rather loudly for the salt. Maylen's mother rushed up to her oldest daughter and guided her to a seat, reprimanding her for staying out late and acting relieved that she was back.

Maylen smiled and gently shook her aunt off to sit down. As she reached for her fork with her good hand, an uncomfortable silence enveloped the table.

Aunt Amelia sat down slowly, looking around meekly as she acknowledged the silence. After sipping a few spoonfuls of soup, Maylen made an effort to start a conversation.

"Lily, Maraline, how did your lessons go today?" she asked with forced cheerfulness, avoiding Jaime's killing glare.

"Good," Lily answered right away. "I can read _kindly_ and _light_ and _thought_."

"I can read a few sentences out of Mum's book," Maraline said shyly, smiling hopefully at Maylen.

"Very good," Maylen said approvingly. "What book?"

"_Tempest of Light_."

"Really? That is a hard book, you must be an excellent reader," she said, making her sister beam.

Another silence fell over the family, almost stifling. Then Maylen's uncle asked in his soft raspy voice, "Did you manage to get any of those deer?"

Maylen remembered with a stab of guilt that she had told her mum that she was hunting, when really she was bringing the bread to her hatchling. She realized that she would have to do some pretty fancy lying to avoid suspicion when caring for her bird in secret. "Um, no, I missed by an inch." She told her father, smothering her nervousness. "The deer ran away after that, and I couldn't find them."

"Too bad," her father said, "I hope we can find them next time. Our supply is running a little short. Since spring is coming, we won't have to hunt as much as a month or two ago, but it is good to have a surplus amount to go by."

Maylen nodded in agreement. She wondered how her bird was doing. Reaching as far out with her mind as possible, Maylen found that she couldn't reach far enough to come in contact with the hatchling. Withdrawing back behind the barriers of her own mind, Maylen worriedly finished her dinner and washed out her bowl.


	5. First Magic

**The fifth chapter, FINALLY! Sorry it took so long, schoolwork and stuff, ya know. Thanks for reviewing, guys!**

**Chapter Five**

**Featuring**

A growing phoenix  
An Alageäsían chess match  
Magic

(Sorry, last chapter I'd also said 'a very early morning' but the very early morning is actually in THIS chapter! Oops)

**Chapter Five Chapter Five Chapter Five Chapter Five Chapter Five Chapter Five**

Maylen woke up with a start the next morning, having dreamt that a wolf was picking her hatchling apart limb by limb. Jaw tight with fear, Maylen quietly got out of bed and pulled a robe over her nightgown, careful not to wake her sisters.

The morning was cold and misty, with the sun still hiding behind clouds on the horizon. Maylen realized just how early it was when she heard no clangs from the blacksmith, and the smith got up before anyone. She rushed out of the village and through the wood by the Ninor River.

Her worries were unfounded. She lifted the flap over the nest to find her hatchling blinking lazily at her, curled into a tight ball. Maylen reached out to rub its head; the bird was snug and warm. It had obviously not suffered any hardships during the night.

Maylen gently pulled the bird out of the nest and set in on the ground. She crouched by it and fed it bread crumbs until its little stomach was bulging. She spoke to it amiably for a few more minutes and then placed it back in its den. Telling the bird to stay once again, Maylen rushed home.

She arrived to eat a quick breakfast, and then tackled her chores until afternoon. Tucking a loaf of bread and an apple into her bag, Maylen grabbed her bow and quiver and told her family she was going to go hunt.

Maylen visited her bird and fed it the bread. They went for a walk, the bird huddled cozily in her arms, and Maylen described the forest to it, naming different plants and animals that they saw. It didn't matter that the bird didn't understand; it was the simple exchange of thoughts and feelings that counted. The bird was surprisingly uninterested in the other forest finches and sparrows; when Maylen touched its mind to find out why, she sensed a prideful superiority that her hatchling felt towards the forest birds.

The bird soaked in the words that Maylen spoke, gazing at her with intelligent eyes. Eventually she felt that it was time to hunt a little for her uncle, or he would think she was becoming incompetent. She was able to shoot a young buck and bring it home to Uncle Theodore. If the bird considered the killing wrong, it didn't show it. As she left the bird once again, Maylen wondered if the hatchling was going to grow into a predator. That would certainly be useful, as she couldn't continue to take her mother's bread for long.

Later that day, Maylen's mother asked her to buy a few apples and a bag of flour. She complied, and left with a small purse of coins.

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Maylen purchased a few bruised apples from a street vendor, and then set off to the bakery.

On the way Maylen perceived a small huddle of people on one side of the street. Coming closer, she found that the reason was a game of Chàd'l **(an Alageäsían board game similar to our chess, see bottom of page for details)**. Two men sat on stools on opposite sides of a rickety table, on which was a poorly painted Chàd'l board with roughly carved wooden pieces. One player was swarthy and red-faced, with a crimson beard and a shiny bald pate. The other Maylen knew; his name was Frode, and was thin and old, with a long, tangled white mane and a matching beard. They both glared at the board, contemplating their next move.

Maylen herself was a decent Chàd'l player; she watched as the larger man moved his dragon to E6, and knocked one of Frode' pawns down. He smugly placed the black-painted pawn by his mug of beer, where a collection of black pieces were already accumulated. Maylen examined the pile; Frode' Sovereign, one of his dragons, and several pawns were in the pile. The old man was in bad shape.

"Gotter try 'arder than that, eh Frode?" The red-faced man taunted. He took a swig from his mug. Maylen hid her disgust. _Arrogant fool,_ she thought to herself.

Then Maylen noticed something. By moving his dragon, the larger man had left a path for Frode' dragon to move right up next to the man's Emperor. _Bad move,_ Maylen thought.

Apparently the two players noticed this too. Maylen watched in satisfaction as the larger man's expression transformed from haughty delight to blatant surprise and outrage. She flicked her gaze back to Frode as he reached for his dragon.

Then Maylen trembled. It was sudden, as if the world had just tipped upside-down. Her head pounded; Maylen rubbed her temples with shaking fingers as she staggered. Struggling to stay upright, Maylen watched as the wooden dragon under Frode' withered fingers suddenly shook its tiny, crudely carved head.

It was at that moment that time itself took on peculiar conversion. People's movements slowed to a halt; Maylen saw without really thinking about it a young boy frozen in mid-step as he ran from a street vendor, whose furious expression was petrified on his face. Her vision blurred and spun, and there was a roaring sound in her ears. The only thing moving in existence, it seemed, was the little wooden dragon.

Maylen watched, paralyzed in shock, as the dragon stretched its wooden wings that a moment ago had been carved into its body. It suddenly leapt off its wooden plinth and jumped over the pawn in front of it, extending its wings to catch the dead air. It wobbled over the board until it turned at a white square, to land in front of the immobile larger man's king. The dragon raised its wings in an intimidating gesture before the king.

The wooden king itself was coming to life. Maylen watched, stunned, as the king knelt before the dragon, one knee on the board, the other supporting his elbow. His expressionless lump of a face bowed in defeat.

Maylen winced at a stabbing pain behind her eyes and closed them. She heard a hissing, resonating voice cry, _"Checkmate!"_ Then she fell to her knees.

All at once sound returned to her. The headache subsided, and Maylen was once again in the center of a street of Daret, in the midst of a crowd of bustling people, all staring at her oddly, for she was on her knees in the dusty lane. Feeling a tinge of embarrassment touch her cheeks, she hastily got up, dusted off her skirt, and glanced quickly at the Chàd'l table.

The game was continuing as if nothing had happened. The wooden dragon and king were back on their wooden plinths, and as inert as before the… thing happened. Frode moved his dragon over the pawn and two squares forward until it was in front of the white king. He set down the piece on the square and said quietly, "Checkmate." Then he stood up and looked straight at Maylen.

Maylen felt a blush mantle her cheeks at his blunt gaze. As the other people around the Chàd'l table turned to see what Frode was looking at, she turned and hurriedly walked away.

_What happened?_ Maylen's mind was buzzing with confusion. She hardly noticed that she was bumping into people left and right, and that they were giving her irritated glares. With a detached air she made her way to the baker's to procure a small bag of flour. As she carried her goods back home, Maylen attempted to sort out her thoughts.

Either she was going crazy, or Maylen had just executed a stunning instance of magic. It had seemed that no one else had seen the Chàd'l pieces move. How come she had been the only one to see it? Or had she been hallucinating? And what was that look Frode had given her?

Thoroughly confused, Maylen made her way home.

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**Chàd'l (_CHAY-dull_): an Alageäsían board game similar to our chess. The only differences are dragon riders – though they are most commonly just called dragons – instead of knights; bishops are called squires; Kings are called Emperors, and Queens are called Sovereigns. Rooks and pawns subsist.**

**Well, there ya are! Please please please please review! I won't post the next chapter until you do!**


	6. Martusc

**Thanks to my wonderful reviewers, ****Star Holder Commander****jazzsax93****Lichenstar****  
****Kara Tezla****Star Holder Commander****Feng Yue****, and ****BlindSeer220****! Appreciate it guys. And… presenting… THE SIXTH CHAPTER!! Yay confetti showers**

**Featuring**

A missing phoenix

An old friend

Shared power

**Here goes! Exciting fact: Maylen isn't the only one who knows about her phoenix from here on out!**

**Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Chapter 6  
**

Maylen arrived home in a muddle of confused thoughts and feelings. In her minds eye, she still envisioned the wooden dragon arching its back and stretching its wings. In her head, she heard the whispering voice shriek, _"Checkmate!"_

"What's wrong? You look like you'd seen a ghost!"

"Oh, nothing. I'm gonna go hunt." Maylen gave the apples and flour to her mother, tucked a loaf of bread into her satchel, and grabbed her bow and quiver. She quickly set out into the forest.

Maylen arrived at her bird's nest panting. She lifted the flap, and gasped.

Her hatchling was gone.

Mind numb with fear, Maylen backed away, looking in all directions. She cast out with her thoughts, and came in contact with, not one, but _two_ minds. One was her bird. The other was –

"Maylen?"

Maylen jumped and spun around. There stood Martusc **(A/N See bottom of page)**, one of Maylen's friends from town, looking perplexed. And in his arms was Maylen's hatchling, blinking up at her.

For a few moments, the three just stared at each other. Maylen cleared her throat to bring her voice back.

"Um, what are you doing here?" She croaked.

"I think the better question is what are _you_ doing here?" Martusc narrowed his eyes at her.

Maylen drew herself up. "I was coming to feed my bird."

"What's with the bow?"

"I was also coming to hunt."

"You know how to hunt?" Martusc smirked at her. Maylen glared at him.

"_Yes,_ I do, why? And please give me back my bird."

"Why should I? He likes me. And as far as I know, this could be anyone's bird."

Maylen paused. "_He?_"

"Yeah. Didn't you know? You _did_ say this was _your_ bird." Martusc cocked an eyebrow at her.

"It – he – is, but I didn't know it was a he…" Maylen was very confused. Should she tell him about all that had happened? Martusc had been a faithful friend, back when they used to play together with the other village boys in the streets of Daret. But that had been years ago, and now she only saw him in passing. It was true that she would have trusted him with anything back then, but now they had grown up, grown apart. Maylen considered herself too old, at fourteen, to be playing in muddy alleys anymore. Martusc had been Maylen's first friend, had been her first coach at the refined art of stealing. Now he was an apprentice of the blacksmith, and still occasionally partook in stealing apples and pies from street vendors.

Maylen didn't know if she could trust him, but found that it was the one thing she most wanted to do.

As he was reading her thoughts, Martusc said seriously, "It's all right, you can trust me. Tell me how you found… your bird."

Maylen hesitated. "Hand him over, first. How do you know it's a he?"

Martusc gently gave the hatchling to Maylen. She saw him glance pointedly at her left hand, with the bandage, but he apparently decided to ignore it. "I have a way with animals. I suppose I could just tell."

Maylen remembered how Martusc had always snuck to the stables to see his favorite horse, a large black gelding named Shadowfire. He was also a friend of all the farmer's dogs, and owned three kittens that he had bought with the money he earned from the smithy.

Maylen cuddled her bird and touched its – no, _his_, mind to see if he was alright. The hatchling seemed to be happy. Maylen knew it would take a while to be used to the fact that her bird was a he.

She pulled out the bread and started to feed it, slowly sitting down against a tree. Martusc sat down opposite her, cross-legged, leaning against a tree a few feet in front of her.

For a few minutes they just watched the strange creature gobble down the bread. Maylen would break off a small piece, and the bird would lean forward from his perch in the crook of her arm, raise his wings, and snap up the morsel. When he was done, Maylen let the hatchling wander about, occasionally prodding his conscious to warn him that he couldn't wander out of her field of vision.

Maylen found herself avoiding Martusc's gaze. She was still wondering if she should tell him about her ability to talk to animals. What would his reaction be? Could she make him promise not to tell anyone?

"Well? Are you going to tell me or not?"

Maylen played with a hole in her tunic. "I want you to promise me that you will not tell _anyone." _

She scowled at him, and his puzzled expression. "You hear me? _No one._" She looked up at Martusc fiercely, staring at him full in the face. He glared back.

"I promise."

"Swear it." Maylen narrowed her eyes. "_Swear!_"

"All right! I swear! Honest!" Martusc raised an eyebrow. "Why the secrecy?"

Maylen looked down at her hatchling. It was shuffling through a pile of dry leaves. It sent a question. Maylen mentally told it that the name was 'leaf', and then looked back up at Martusc.

"I don't know what they would do to it," she said truthfully. Martusc nodded, and Maylen knew he understood.

Maylen hesitated a little longer, and then took a breath. "I was hunting. I slipped on a… egg, in the ground. It was biggish, red colored. I dug it out, and it hatched." Maylen shrugged. "I decided to take care of the bird. I mean, I couldn't leave it – he – out in the wild, and I couldn't tell people about him at home. He's too… peculiar."

Martusc nodded again. For a while there was silence. They watched the bird fumble around. The bird cocked his head at a beetle scuttling on the ground before him. Maylen grimaced in disgust as he snapped the insect up, chewing happily.

"So… what are you gonna name him?"

The question caught Maylen off guard. She looked up at Martusc, then pulled herself together.

"I take that as you believe me?"

Her friend shrugged. "It makes sense. But you should name him. I mean, you can't just go calling him 'it' or 'bird' or something all the time."

Maylen thought about it.

"I suppose… I can't think of anything that would suit it – er, him, though."

The two thought about it for a while. They voiced suggestions, but none seemed to fit. The bird continued scrambling around until he tired, then peeped at Maylen for her to cuddle him. He fell asleep in her arms.

Maylen and Martusc thought of 'Fintan' and 'Blàz' and 'Fireheart'. They toyed with 'Azar', but that was a female name. Finally –

"How about 'Kumar'?"

Maylen stared at Martusc. "Where'd you hear that?" she absentmindedly realized that she and Martusc had been talking companionably together like they had not in years.

Martusc shrugged. "I read it somewhere, I think. I dunno. But it seems to fit, don'tcha think?"

Maylen nodded. She sent a tendril of thoughts to her hatching's mind. _Are you Kumar?_

Maylen felt a sense of contentment emanate from her bird. She didn't know this until much later, but her bird had been paying attention to Maylen and Martusc's conversation, listening and learning.

"He likes it."

"How d'you know?" Martusc asked suspiciously.

Maylen considered whether she should tell him, and gave in. "I can… talk to animals." She said quietly. "I touch their mind with my thoughts, and… well, I just think words or feelings, and they understand."

Martusc was silent for a moment. Then – "Try it on me."

Maylen gaped. "You believe me?"

Martusc laughed suddenly. It was a pleasant, exultant sound, like he had practiced it many times. "How can I not? I would expect things to get strange when a weird bird hatches for an old friend, just as you found it, even. This really isn't much of a surprise." He paused, looking up at the leaves fluttering in a cool breeze. "Well? Are you going to try it?"

Never before had Maylen tried influencing a person with her mind. She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind until she came in contact with Martusc's. She slowly moved up to it, like a cat cautiously nearing an object of interest.

Then she felt a barrier. Maylen strained against it, to no avail. It was like an iron wall surrounded Martusc's conscious. She thrust with all her will power, and the wall didn't waver. Finally, mentally exhausted, Maylen withdrew behind her own barriers.

"How did you do that?"

Martusc smiled. "I can talk to animals too."

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**A/N: Martusc is pronounced Mar-toosh. Yeah I know, weird, but I like the name. Well? What do you think? I'm not updating unless I get more reviews:) **


	7. Phoenix Tamer

**Hey guys! I just replaced this chapter after dreamgirlhoo brought up a very important point. Just to clear some stuff up (and you might want to read this again), yes, Phoenix Tamers and their Phoenixes are immortal unless, heh, 'blade or poison take them' (as it says in the book. We go by the book.). Also, answering dreamgirlhoo's other great question: Phoenix Tamers and Dragon Riders didn't collaborate for a reason… that I will explain in the next chapter!**

**Thank you, my fabulous reviewers! For those who are just now reading this… CHAPTER SEVEN!!! Yippee!**

**Featuring (as I said before)**

An exchange of stories

A talking Phoenix

A book on Phoenixes

**Here ya go! Tell me what you think!**

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Maylen and Martusc had exchanged thoughts and stories until they both knew how the other had come to talk to animals, and how they wielded the power. They pondered how it was possible, and why no one else in Daret seemed to have this ability. Maylen also showed him the strange tattoo on her hand that she had acquired by touching Kumar just as he had hatched.

When Maylen asked him how he set up the wall around his mind, Martusc replied, "I just sort of think of a wall, and think of repelling whatever would be trying to get in. It's quite simple, really. Takes a lot of practice, though. I practiced with the farmer's dogs. You know how smart dogs are? You ask them to do something, and they catch on straight away…"

Martusc taught her how bring the walls about her mind.

Maylen told him what had happened to her earlier with the Chàd'l game. Martusc thought that it was more magic.

"But how can I use magic?" Maylen protested. "I mean, talking telepathically with animals is one thing, but making Chàd'l pieces move without touching them is a whole other."

"Maybe your magic comes from Kumar. You know what sorcerers and shades are, right? Probably the same thing, only you get your magic from a magic animal. And what does 'telepathically' mean?"

Maylen gaped. "_Telepathically?_"

"Hey, well, my mum never gave _me_ reading lessons," Martusc said defensively. "What does it mean?"

Maylen shook her head sadly. "It means, like, doing things with your mind and stuff. Thoughts and conscious and all that." she sighed exasperatedly.

Martusc scowled, and then his face relaxed into his usual amused wariness. Maylen liked how a smile was always tucked away in the corners of his mouth. His lips were always slightly curved in sarcastic amusement, and when he heard something funny, the smile would broaden; when he heard something even more humorous, his face would break into cheery mirth. Being around him felt… good, Maylen thought, like he understood her better than anyone else.

She suddenly realized how late it was. She and Martusc had been talking for nearly an hour, and the sun was high in the sky.

"We should get back," Maylen said. Martusc nodded and stood. Maylen got up, wincing as her cramped muscles screamed in protest. She scooped Kumar into her arms.

She gently put Kumar back in his nest, promised him that she would be back later that night, and walked back through the forest with Martusc.

They walked in companionable silence for a while. Then Martusc said, "I'm going to go to Frode to see if he has any books on mythical creatures."

Maylen looked sideways at him. "I thought you said you couldn't read."

"I _can_ read, just not all that well. I'm not a bookworm, like you."

"I am not a bookworm! My mum just made me read all her books when I was younger, so I can read quite well. That's all."

"Well, anyways, Frode's bound to have something on it. He knows tons of stories, about dragon riders and stuff, and where else would he get them but books?"

Every year Daret had a winter festival, just a small gathering in the town center with dances, stories, songs, and a great feast afterwards. Frode was one of the storytellers at the festival, and told fantastic tales of mighty dragons, fearsome warriors, and sometimes the elves and dwarves that lived in far-off lands.

"Good idea," Maylen agreed. "Bring anything back by Kumar's nest tomorrow afternoon."

Martusc smiled at her. "Will do."

* * *

The next morning, Maylen rushed out to Kumar to feed him. As he gobbled down the traditional bread, he surprised Maylen by touching her mind and saying a single word. 

_Maylen._

She jumped and stared Kumar. The pupils of his eyes widened in a calm manner.

Maylen tentatively patted the bird's head, a flood of emotions running through her mind.

_Maylen._

She was aware that he was an equal. She knew that he was a magic, probably unique animal. But Maylen hadn't thought that the bird would actually _talk._

She backed away slowly, much as she had done when the egg was hatching. Kumar looked at her pensively from under the flap of his nest.

Maylen turned and ran; from what, she had no idea. She arrived home panting, and hasted to do her chores to take her mind off the disturbing matter; that her bird really was as intelligent as any human being.

* * *

That afternoon, Maylen approached the nest warily, aware now that her bird was an equal **(A/N: did I take that sentence from the book? I think I did…)**. Kumar chirped happily at her approach as if nothing had happened, and didn't speak, either. He was perched in one of the branches, clutching the bough tightly with his large claws. Maylen noticed that his feathers were ruddier than they had been the day before. 

"Maylen!"

She turned to see Martusc running towards her, skidding to a halt before her with a large, musty-covered book in his hands.

"Look," he said excitedly, though he was breathing hard. "I went to Frode, like I said I would, and he gave me this. It explains all about phoenixes. That's what your bird is, Maylen, Kumar. He's a Phoenix." Maylen stared, dumbfounded, as Martusc flipped through the thick, yellowed parchment pages. "Here it is."

He pointed to a picture in the book. "See, it's a book of mythical animals. There's a phoenix, full-grown." The picture depicted was of a beautiful bird spreading its wings; the feathers a rich red but for a ring of white feathers circling the head and a half-moon shaped curve of feathers about the eyes. Two tails that were as long as its wingspan spread down from the body in a narrow, inverted 'V' shape. The small, straight beak was open, giving the impression that the bird was singing the most joyous note. Next to the picture was a faded paragraph, describing the phoenix.

_The Phoenix: a holy bird believed to be able to heal any wound with the tears of its eye. Its singing has long been claimed to drive away foul beasts and fiends. The bird is hatched from an egg, but cannot die unless sword or poison take them; once it has reached two-hundred years of age it burst to flame and is reborn from its own ashes. A juvenile phoenix resembles any young bird, but for its flame-red feathers and its ability to open its eyes immediately after birth. If a man is present at the hatching of a phoenix, this can mean several things: the man will have good luck for the rest of his life, he will become immortal, or he becomes a Phoenix Tamer._

Maylen read, fascinated, about the legendary Phoenix Tamers as well.

_Phoenix Tamers: Humans who have come in contact with a Phoenix at its hatching. The two acquire a mental bond upon coming in physical contact with each other. The human undergoes several changes; he becomes immortal, has the ability to talk to animals mentally, and can use magic. It has been centuries since the last recorded instance of a born Phoenix Tamer._

Maylen read it through, twice. She examined the picture of a man with his arm raised, a large phoenix swooping to his fist with its legs outstretched. She felt light-headed.

"Maylen," Martusc said quietly, "you're the first Phoenix Tamer in over a century."

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**Well, what d'ya think? Please, please review! I'm already writing the next chappy, but I'm not posting it until I get some reviews:) **


	8. Dark Magic

**Hay (it's for horses) guys! Yes, it's posted --- THE EIGHTH CHAPTER!!! (If you haven't noticed, I have become very acquainted with the caps lock key) I was so happy when I checked my reviews today; my first fanfic, only seven chapters in, and already over thirty reviews!! Thanks a bunch guys:)**

**Featuring:**

Troubling thoughts

A kind Phoenix

A dark power

**Read Read Read Read Review Review Review Review**

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Kumar chirped as if to remind the two that he was still there. Maylen went over and reached up; Kumar crawled into her hands. She hugged him to her chest, thinking. 

So, she was a Phoenix Tamer. This meant that she would be thrown into a life of greater peril than if she had not found Kumar; the Empire might even come looking for her, if the legend was true and word got out. She would have to take much care that she was never seen with Kumar.

"We have to keep him even more of a secret," she told Martusc. "We can't afford the Empire coming here just because I found a rare bird."

"He's not 'just rare', Maylen." Martusc pointed out. "Phoenix Tamers were _very_ rare, apparently, and also magic. The King himself might come to enlist you in his service."

Maylen grimaced. "I would _never_ work for the King." Daret had a long standing defiance towards the King and his rule, mostly because of the large tax fees. The Empire had also never supplied soldiers to help hold off rogue urgals or capture bandits.

"You may not have a choice, if he forces you. I mean, think of his armies. And his power."

Maylen nodded, troubled. She absentmindedly scratched Kumar's head as she thought of the King, and the lies she would have to spin to keep Kumar safe.

* * *

Over the next few weeks Martusc visited Maylen regularly at Kumar's nest, whenever he could get away. He was impressed with Maylen's hunting skill. 

"You shoot well, for a girl –" he never finished the sentence, but received a hard whap on the side of the head.

"Did you ever doubt that girls couldn't shoot well?" Maylen asked fiercely. Martusc shook his head vigorously, laughing.

They practiced archery together. Martusc also proved to be a decent archer, and they often held contests, most of which Maylen won. Maylen did not have as strong an arm as Martusc, for he spent most of his mornings pounding red-hot metal into hooks and tools with ten-pound hammers at the blacksmith, but she was much more accurate.

Kumar grew at an explosive rate. During the first week he grew ten inches, and his feathers became a lustrous red. He could fly after the second week, and Maylen enjoyed sharing the experience by touching his mind and watching through his eyes as he soared through the air.

Kumar also learned how to hunt. Maylen no longer had to bring bread to his nest, as he caught mice often.

He grew to be a large, graceful, beautiful bird. Maylen never tired of admiring the brilliant hue of his feathers. The feathers around the pate of his head were a pearly white and wrapped about his head like the princeliest crown, a living replica of the faded image of the phoenix in the book Martusc had shown Maylen.

Maylen was ever surprised by Kumar. He would do things that were completely unexpected. One time, as Maylen was walking through the woods with Kumar perched on her shoulder, they came upon a sparrow caught in a stickle bush. The bird was peeping piteously as it fluttered in the prickly branches helplessly. Kumar had swooped off Maylen's shoulder and helped pull away stickle bush branches until the bird was free. Maylen had watched, shocked and amazed, as her phoenix laid his magnificent head on the cheeping bird's bloody wing, and wept three shining tears. They melted into the wound and the scratches vanished, leaving the wing as perfect and smooth as if the bird had never been hurt. Kumar then flapped back up to Maylen's shoulder as the bird darted through the trees, chirping gratefully.

_I would not let it suffer,_ said Kumar to Maylen, _and it was too young to die._

A few weeks after Maylen had first found the egg, she and Martusc were walking to Kumar's nest. Martusc brought up the one topic that Maylen had been evaded for some time.

"So, are you going to practice magic?"

Maylen scoffed unconvincingly. "What magic?"

"The magic Kumar gave you, Maylen," Martusc said sternly. "You can't just keep pretending it doesn't exist, and it could help our village one day."

Maylen thought carefully before answering. "I... don't like it. I'm afraid of it. What if I make a mistake? What if I end up putting us all in danger? I really don't have that good of a grip on it."

"And by practicing, you _could_ have a good grip on it." Martusc pointed out. "Just try to do something with it, when we get to the nest, like lift a stick with your mind or something. With enough practice, perhaps you could stop urgals from attacking our town." A few days before, a band of twenty urgals had attacked Daret at nighttime. The two watchmen at the front of the town had been killed, black-feathered arrows in their necks. Three other deaths had occurred before the town's archers and swordsman had finally killed the urgals or driven them away. Maylen remembered with a shiver hiding in her room with her aunt and sisters, forbidden to leave the house, listening to the cries of men and the roars of the insane beasts.

Maylen nodded slowly. "I see your point." She said quietly, "I'll try... something."

When they got to Kumar's nest, they found him perched in his tree, preening his feathers elegantly. When he felt the presence of his beloved Tamer, the bird sang joyfully and swooped down to Maylen's outstretched arm. As usual, Maylen felt a bursting awe and joy deep in her heart at being in the presence of such an ancient and powerful being. She stroked Kumar's soft, smooth neck feathers. He made a purring sound in his throat, opening his beak and turning his head like a contented cat.

Then Kumar straightened, moving away from Maylen's hand, and looked into her eyes. _Something troubles you?_ He inquired. His black pupils narrowed to slits.

Maylen sighed. _Martusc thinks we should try to use magic._

Kumar stretched out one great wing and preened himself. _I see no reason why we should not._

_I know,_ Maylen thought to him unhappily, _but I'm afraid I won't be able to control it. I may set the forest on fire, or something._

Kumar made a lovely warbling sound in his throat that was his alien laughter. _Of course you shall not. Just try something simple, like moving a leaf._

Maylen nodded. She looked at Martusc. "I'm going to try."

Kumar crawled up to her shoulder. Maylen let her arms drop to her sides. She looked around, and spotted a stick lying on the ground. _Simple enough,_ she thought,_ just focus on it and raise it into the air._

Maylen focused. She tried to increase the blaze of power in her, bringing it to her fingertips. Feeling extremely foolish, she raised her left arm and pointed at the stick. "Rise!" she cried.

The stick remained where it was. A beetle scuttled around it and into the bushes.

"Maylen," said Martusc, "you have to _try._ Search for the power that you used to move the Chàd'l pieces."

"I didn't _move _them," Maylen whispered back. "I don't... know what I did." But she turned back to the stick, closed her eyes, and dug deep into her mind for some reminisce of... whatever had happened with the Chàd'l game.

She searched through past memories and thoughts, sifting through them like cards. Then she felt a bump. It was like another presence in her mind, a golden, tingling power. Excited, Maylen dug into it, only to find that there was a thin barrier around it, like the barrier around someone's mind. She pushed against it, but it wouldn't give. Frowning, she threw all of her mental weight against it, and the barrier shattered, like glass. A shock wave coursed through her body, setting her afire with power. She opened her eyes.

Maylen seemed to be viewing the world in a whole different way. It wasn't her vision, really, but her aspect of things. She felt aloof and commanding. She looked at the stick and said coldly, in a voice that was not quite her own, "_Rïsa_."

The stick rose into the air, unhesitant. Smiling slightly, Maylen let the stick drop. This was too easy.

She looked about her and sneered. All of these things, the squirrels darting around bushes, the birds chirping in trees, were unquestionably weaker than she. Why, with her power, she could make the tallest mountain bow to her. She saw a bird in a tree ahead of her and decided to entertain herself. Kumar crowed in agreement at the shared wicked thought.

Maylen pulled the bird down from its perch with her mind. It twittered in pain as she threw it to the ground, then against a tree. Its little fluttering heart stilled as it dropped, dead, to the ground.

Maylen smiled amused at its weakness, and looked around for more entertainment. She saw a powerless boy sitting standing to her right, looking shocked and afraid. He backed away at her steady, cold gaze. _How weak,_ Maylen thought. _I shall dispose of him, and then continue on my quest to take over this helpless world._

She raised a hand and pointed it at the boy. His eyes widened as Maylen spoke words to inflict pain.

* * *

Martusc became worried when Maylen spoke that one commanding word to the stick in another language – no, not Maylen, something else... something evil and cruel. The voice was deep and resonating, as if someone else were speaking with Maylen's mouth. He found himself standing at the word _Ryzah_, or whatever it was, as though an invisible force had moved him. 

When Maylen had killed the bird, so quickly, so cruelly, Martusc had been certain this was _not_ the person he had known. Something in Maylen's magic was bad, was wrong, and very, very powerful.

In a split-second, Martusc realized that this must have been why the Phoenix Tamers had never collaborated with the Dragon Riders in the past, a thought that had barraged him since reading Frode's book. The Phoenix Tamers' power was dark and uncontrollable. They could have easily manipulated the Riders with their power.

Martusc felt a chill creep up his back as Maylen turned those unfeeling, un-Maylen eyes to him. Kumar, too, seemed not to be himself. The bird's eyes were glowing red as he stared unmercifully at Martusc. He felt the strange urge to kneel, and fought it. Whatever was happening to Maylen, he had to stop it.

Maylen raised a hand and pointed it at his face. She said three cold words, and pain drove Martusc to his knees. He clutched his stomach and doubled over in agony. He had to stop this. He had too. Black clouds swirled across his vision, and Martusc felt the first symptoms of one about to pass out. He had to stop whatever was happening. Had to stop… had to….

* * *

Maylen smiled grimly at the boy's pain. Pathetic, he was. She would make his death slow and painful. She would do so for all the pathetic scum out there. And she would rule them, and rule all of Alagaësia. 

Then the boy raised tear-filled eyes to her. She saw the pain in them, and sneered, but felt uncertain all of a sudden. He was supposed to have passed out by now. Kumar leaned over her shoulder and screamed at the boy, who flinched but didn't look away. Maylen narrowed her eyes and increased the force of the pain, of the power. The boy gasped and cried out, but rose to his feet, back bent in agony.

Maylen looked at him coldly, hiding her fear. He wasn't supposed to be standing; he was supposed to be bowed before her, suffering, humiliated. Then he reached out to her. He gripped her shoulder, the one Kumar wasn't sitting on, and said a single word.

"Maylen."

She felt dizzy, light-headed. Maylen backed away, but the boy followed, shaking her shoulder slightly, as if trying to wake her up. "Maylen," he said urgently, groaning in pain, "Maylen, come back. I know... I know you're there."

Her vision seemed to clear, as if opening her eyes a second time, after already having them open.

Maylen closed her eyes. There was something in the boy's voice that made her want to cry. She felt a strange feeling of vertigo, as if falling down a bottomless tunnel. A heavy weight on her shoulder lifted, and the ground rushed up to meet her, but she never hit it; strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and held her upright as she fainted.

* * *

When Maylen awoke, it was to see two faces peering down at her anxiously. One was a gorgeous bird's head; the other was the solemn face of Martusc. 

Maylen found that she was propped against Kumar's tree with the nest just above her head. She groaned and rubbed her head. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Martusc asked. His voice was husky.

She did remember. She closed her eyes, ashamed. And found that tears were leaking out of the corners of her eyes.

Without a word, Martusc leaned forward and hugged her. She pressed her face into his shoulder, sobbing. Whatever she had done before, she was sure it hadn't been her. It couldn't have. She would never do something like that. In her minds eye, she saw Martusc's pain-filled eyes staring up at her with reproach as she made him suffer, and sobbed even harder.

They stayed in that position for quite some time, boy hugging girl, the Phoenix with his magnificent head bowed in remorse.

* * *

**There you go! Did you like it? Yes or no? I really tried to make it less like Eragon. By the way, check out **** the new Eragon movie trailer is SWEET!! Really, Saphira looks SO FREIKING COOL! I think that they've lengthened the fight between Eragon and Durza in the end to like a full battle, complete with stylish magical attacks and stunning moves on Saphira's part! ... heh, that was weird... :)**

**Please review!! Brownie points** if you do:D Oh! I almost forgot! ALL WHO HAVE READ AND REVIEWED THIS STORY SHALL FIND THEIR NAME IN MY PROFILE! Sort of a public appreciation thing:) R&R! 


	9. I have to

**I know I'm evil, but I promise ****PROMISE!! that the next chapter will be longer! Really honestly. Well, enjoy this little cliffhanger! CHAPTER 9!!**

**Featuring:**

A changed Maylen

A proposal (no, not as in marriage)

**Here you go! Please R&R!**

* * *

_Maylen has changed,_ was Martusc's first thought when he went to visit Maylen the next day at Kumar's nest. She didn't smile when she saw him, just gave a brief nod and continued to stroke Kumar's head. Even Kumar seemed distant. His wings drooped, and his lustrous ruby feathers seemed dull. 

Martusc sat opposite Maylen, leaning against a tree. He settled into a relaxed position, sighing, as if prepared to sit there for a while.

Which they did. Silently.

After about ten minutes of Maylen stroking Kumar and Martusc watching Maylen, she finally stirred. It was only to shift her position against the tree. Martusc searched her face, and found only a deep, deep sorrow and pain. The bright, fiery light in her eyes was dim, almost nonexistent. She was but a shell of who she used to be, after what had happened with the magic yesterday.

Finally, impatient with the silence, Martusc said lamely, "Its nice weather out." He knew he should leave Maylen to her brooding, but he desperately missed the Maylen he had known.

"Listen, Maylen, what happened yesterday was not your fault." Martusc decided to be blunt. Maylen seemed to be ignoring him.

"You really shouldn't brood over it. I mean, its over. It was a mistake, one that you won't make again." Martusc became mad at Maylen's silence. "Maylen it really doesn't matter anymore! Get over it."

There was a pause, and then Maylen finally turned her dark eyes to Martusc. He was shocked to find them empty. It was as if she had been completely sucked of life.

"Martusc," she said softly, "What has become of me?" she didn't sound herself. She sounded dreamy, distant, and… wise. "I am not the person I once was. Ever since I found Kumar's egg, I thought that I could live a normal life, and still keep him secret. I was wrong." Maylen sighed. "I can't be two people. One cannot be an ordinary butcher's daughter and be a legend. Sooner or later, I will have to tell everyone who I am. And… I don't think they'll like it." She took a breath, then whispered, "I don't belong here."

Martusc was alarmed. "Of course you do! Maylen, what are you saying?" But he already knew what she was saying. He had known this would happen for a long time.

Maylen's eyes seemed to light up slightly, as if there were still a few embers of life in her. "I have to run away."

* * *

**There you are! Okay, I am open to suggestions. Should I have Maylen run away? Or should she stay? What I have planned out is just a quick trip into the wilderness, then something makes her turn back. Obviously I can't tell you. Review ppl, and give me ideas:) **


	10. Runaway

**See see! I _told_ you the next chapter would be longer! I hope you guys find this satisfactory. Read and Review! **

**Chapter TEN!! yipee!**

**Featuring:**

An unspoken farewell  
Two stolen horses  
A new beginning

**Read and Review peeps! Here ya go!**

* * *

When Maylen got home that day, she went straight to her room, claiming to her flustered aunt that she was exhausted. She was, in a way. 

On the way down the hall, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see her aunt's worried face.

"Mum, what's wrong?" Maylen asked carefully.

"It's just…" her aunt sighed, and let her arm drop to her side. "You seem so… distant, lately. We barely see you anymore."

"Okay," Maylen said slowly.

"Just… remember we're your family, alright? Whenever you need us, we're here."

Maylen became frustrated. "Look, Aunt, I'm _fine._ Sometimes I need alone time, sometimes… I, well," she stuttered into silence.

Aunt Amelia looked at her steadily. Maylen regarded her warily. "You _do _know that we're here for you?"

"Aunt, you know you aren't my real mum?" Maylen said quietly.

Her aunt sighed. "Yes, but –"

"Then _stop acting like you are!"_ Maylen screamed, and slammed the door in her aunt's face.

Maylen flopped down on her pallet, seething. She had no idea why she was so angry. Were there remnants of the dark magic she had used earlier still in her? She turned her head to the side to look out the window, and caught sight of her sister Maraline's sketching tablet. She straightened, curious, and pulled the drawing towards her.

It was a portrait of… _her._

Maylen felt a smile tug at her lips as she examined the fine line of her jaw, the charcoal-sketched eyes and nose. The mouth was not drawn yet. Her hair fell about her face like a dark curtain. For the first time, Maylen realized that she was… _pretty._

She felt tears touch her eyes and set the tablet down, and turned over. She refused to think about the drawing, or the fact that she would be leaving that evening. She probably wouldn't see Maraline again after that night's dinner.

Maylen stuffed a last loaf of bread into her satchel. She checked her things once again, just to be sure. Three changes of undergarments, an extra tunic and trousers, a small pocketknife; which she decided to keep at her waist just to be careful; two canteens of water… and the now completed charcoal-drawn picture of herself, by Maraline. Her younger sister had finished it earlier.

Maylen looked around the room. She was sure her sisters were sound asleep, but she was cautiously quiet anyways. She glanced at the window; the moon shone through the ragged curtains, but gave little light. The only suggestion that Maylen's sisters were in the room was the oddly shaped lumps that could be seen through the darkness.

Maylen sighed. She felt terribly guilty, leaving her family like this, but she knew it was for the better -- if she stayed, and the village found out about her, she could be putting both herself and the villagers of Daret in danger. No, the only option was to run.

She slung her bow over her shoulder and strapped her quiver to her belt, opposite her dagger. Then she straightened. Refusing to look back, Maylen opened the door and left the room.

Maylen quietly left the house. She couldn't leave a trace of the fact that she was running away, even a good-bye note could be the death of her family. Let them all think she had gone hunting and been killed. Silent tears streaming down her face, Maylen left the village, left her home; left the one place she had lived all her life.

Maylen walked calmly, silently, through the dark night. Through her tears, the stars were enlarged ten times their size, and threw off shining rays of light. Everything was surreal and oddly blurred. Maylen felt like she was walking in a dream.

After she was out of sight of the village, Maylen called out with her mind. _Kumar!_

A few moments later, the magnificent crimson-feathered bird swooped down from the sky, alighting on Maylen's raised fist. They exchanged no words, for none had to be spoken, and continued on their journey.

She hadn't been walking for a half a mile before she heard several hoof beats coming up fast. Maylen turned around in alarm as the feathers on Kumar's head raised threateningly, and saw two dark blurs trotting towards her in the night. Squinting through the dusk, Maylen made out two horses, one with a rider, the other being pulled behind.

"Hello," Martusc said cheerfully, coming up to her on the large, ebony horse that was unmistakably Shadowfire. "You weren't thinking of _walking _the whole way, did you?"

Maylen wasn't as surprised at his arrival as by the fact that he was sitting astride one of the best horses in Daret. "Martusc! Did you _steal_ them?"

The boy looked uncomfortable. "Yeah. But I knew you and Kumar are more important than some grumpy stable keeper, so I took them. The stable keeper wasn't taking good care of Shadowfire anyways; the state of the hay in his stall was terrible! It was so stale, I'd wager he hadn't replaced it in days."

Maylen had to agree that the best way to travel was by horseback. Kumar crawled up to her shoulder as she mounted the second horse, a piebald mare. "She's beautiful. What's her name?"

Martusc shrugged. "I don't know. You should name her."

Maylen patted the mare's neck affectionately as she thought. Finally – "I shall name you Lily, that's the name of my youngest sister. I think it fits," she said, turning to Martusc. He nodded.

_Fit it does,_ Kumar thought to Maylen; he had seen images of her sisters through her eyes.

"Well? Where are we going?" Martusc asked.

Maylen had remembered a map Frode had once showed her, a map of Alagaësia. It had been long ago, but she recalled a few things; the Ninor River curved a little ways south, and then abruptly ended. If one went west from Daret, and followed the Spine a couple leagues, they would find themselves before an opening in the mountains through which the Toark River flowed. If they followed the river a ways, they would find themselves "In the small, peaceful village of Fasaloft" had been Frode's exact words. If the travelers followed the river past Fasaloft, they would find themselves in the large and heavily fortified city of Teirm.

At Frode's house, he had told her about Teirm; how it was one of Alagaësia's most industrious ports, and how it was so prepared for attack that it was one of the few places one could hide without worrying about attack.

"Teirm," Maylen told Martusc. "We are going to Teirm." She looked at him to see his reaction, but it was to dark to see his expression.

"Alright," he said softly. "Well, we aren't getting anywhere by standing around --- let's go!"

Maylen smiled in spite of the grim mood that had long burrowed any happiness she had previously felt. As they took off galloping, Kumar thrust himself into the sky, pushing the air down with his ruby-feathered wings. He let out a joyous call, and Maylen felt her stomach fill with delightful bliss as he shared some of the exhilaration of flight with her.

They had been riding for an hour, racing across the scrubby plain, when they suddenly reached the end of the Ninor River. Maylen slowed to a halt and turned. There was a large clump of trees around the end of the river, branching off from the trees that grew along the banks of the river all along the way. Maylen turned to Martusc.

"From here we go south, a long ways, then turn west and follow the Toark River." She told him. She called for Kumar, who was soaring in wide circles high above them, like a hawk.

_What do you need?_ He asked, alighting upon her shoulder.

_Which way is south? _

Kumar lifted his head and turned, facing to Maylen's right. _This direction._

Maylen pivoted her horse to face south. "Come on. We might make camp in the Spine by dawn if we gallop."

They reached the foothills of the immense range of mountains known as the Spine just as the sun was resting on the horizon behind them. Exhausted and ravenous, the companions settled beneath the trees a little ways up the slope, tied the horses up to some trees close to a clearing of grass, and fell asleep beneath the waving boughs of the tall firs.

It was noon when Maylen woke. She opened her eyes to see a gorgeous ruby-feathered and beaked face peering down at her. Kumar chirped happily to see that she was awake. He nibbled her hair like he did his own feathers, and she giggled. It was such a wonderful feeling, that Maylen stopped abruptly and chose to keep the cheery spirits bubbling inside.

Martusc was still asleep, huddled under a thin blanket. Maylen watched his calm, dark face, the steady rise and fall of his chest. She decided to let him sleep, and started a fire.

She was waving a plucked fowl impaled on a stick over the fire when Martusc stirred. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and saw the cooking fowl. He grimaced, but didn't comment. Kumar fluttered his wings, looked around, then took off. _I am going to hunt,_ He told Mayen.

When the meat was lightly brown, Maylen placed it on slab of wood and cut it apart with her knife, taking out the bones. "Dig in," she told Martusc cheerfully, and started eating the cooked meat. Kumar came back with a mouse dangling from his beak. He swallowed happily, and Maylen made a face. If _cooking_ and eating a dead bird was disgusting, that was nothing compared to eating a _raw_ dead rat. Kumar sent a sense of amusement at Maylen's disgust across their link.

After they had eaten, Maylen leaned back and sighed, rubbing Kumar's head. "Here's where it begins," she murmured.

* * *

**Review review review! It might take awhile for the next chapter, I'm still gathering my thoughts. I know, there's nothing worse than an author without an outline for their story. Well, it will come if you review! Let's shoot for... 70 reviews this time, OK:) See ya later!**


	11. A Phoenix Tale

**Chapter 11!!!! yay! I'm sooo sorry for the wait, guys… I was thinking about how to make this NOT so boring… and, well, here it is! Hope it _isn't_ boring…  
**

* * *

**Darth Braelon: Here it is!**

**Narnian Sprite: I'll try... I like leaving you guys wanting more, though! I know I'm so evil...**

**icydragon14: I'm glad you think it's cool.**

**daydreamin' angel: Oh, I believe that is not the last we will see of the sisters... (wink wink)**

**Lichenstar: I don't think she heard you. I'll tell her for you, though.**

** Maylen is dreaming. Suddenly, her vision of Kumar dancing the tango is interupted as a mysterious figure in a black cloak appears. "Maylen," she says mysteriously, "Lichenstar wishes to tell you that you will come back. Farewell." Then the figure vanishes. Maylen doesn't remember the dream when she wakes up, but she feels strangely reassured.**

**BlindSeer220: Yes, I do not think raw dead rat tastes too good either... sorry the update didn't come so soon...**

**Frosted-Pink: I hope you have an ointment for that itch, because this story seems to be slow in the coming...**

**Coffee Grounds: Yes, unfortunately It did not reach my goal... (sobs hysterically for an hour) My dream is broken... but you are still reviewing, so I don't feel so bad. I like your name, too:p**

**alsdssq: That is _quite_ what I had in mind...**

**Vixen Hood: Sorry to keep you waiting! Well, here it is!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**Featuring:**

An unexpected appearance

An ancient tale

**Hope you enjoy!**

**PS: There is a reference to the title of this story somewhere in the chapter. Five brownie points to your name on my reviewers list in my profile if you can find it!!  
**

* * *

Maylen and Martusc rode along the base of the Spine through all of the next day. Along the way, they talked little, but every once and a while a conversation would spring up. 

Maylen brought up a topic she had been wondering about for a while.

"What do you think became of that boy, the one that came to town a few months ago?" she asked Martusc. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"You know—the one the Empire was searching for. Do you think they've found him yet?"

"Oh, I dunno."

"I wonder why he was wanted so badly. I mean; five-thousand crowns! You could buy a _castle_ with half that much. I was wondering…" she paused, feeling foolish. "Just, you know, because Phoenixes are so rare and stuff… I was wondering if… _he _was a Phoenix Tamer."

Martusc cocked his head. "I don't think so. Maybe somewhere along those lines, but it would be a huge coincidence that two Phoenix eggs, the first in centuries, were found at around the same time."

"Yeah, I guess. But that's another thing: how come my egg was found right where it was, right where I was bound to find it?" she was skirting around her point, but Martusc knew her so well already that he knew what she meant.

"You think you were meant to find it?" he asked quietly.

"Well, yeah."

"It's possible. Maybe someone had been watching you, and had put the egg right where you would find it. The real question is, who?"

"I think… I know this will sound silly, but I think I know who." At Martusc's prompting look, she said, "I think it was Frode."

Martusc looked taken aback. "Why?"

"Well, because he had all of those books and things, you know, on legendary stuff, like dragons and phoenixes. And when I did that … thing, at the Chàd'l match, afterwards he gave me this look, like he knew what had just happened. It just makes sense. It could be anyone, but if I were to choose someone I know, it would be Frode."

"That was a good guess," said a voice from behind them. The two started.

Maylen twisted in her saddle, pulling her horse around. Martusc did the same. "Who's there?" Maylen called, wary and frightened. Who could have possibly been following them? Had they seen Kumar? In her mind, she called to him, who was circling above. _Don't come down! Someone's here._

_I know,_ came the reply. Maylen was about to answer heatedly when a man both Maylen and Martusc recognized stepped out of the trees.

"Frode!" Maylen said in surprise.

The old man came walking down the slope, pulling along behind him a large, pure white stallion.

"I couldn't let you young ones go out and have all the fun," the old man said gruffly, as he pulled himself up onto his horse's saddle beside them. "And I think my knowledge can help you with your journey." He smiled at them through his tangled white beard.

After an awkward silence, Maylen said weakly, "So, you know about my phoenix?"

"Of course. After all, it was I who placed the egg by the Ninor River, where I knew you would find it. I've been watching you for some time now, Maylen," Frode told her seriously. "Not just because you are one of the few brave and daring young women in this town, which would count you as the perfect Tamer for a phoenix, but because of your heritage. I suppose your aunt and uncle never told you about your father?"

"No," Maylen said, thoroughly confused. "They said they'd died in an urgal attack." Her mind was bursting with questions. "Who was my father? And why would there have to be a woman Phoenix Tamer for a phoenix?" Did he perhaps know about her archery skills?

"All questions will be answered in time. I shall begin with the tale of the first Phoenix Tamers. Where are we going again? Teirm? Well, I'll just tell the story as we go along." He urged his horse forward into a steady trot. Maylen looked at Martusc worriedly.

Frode pulled to a halt, turning back. "Well? Are we going?"

Maylen raised her brows at Martusc. He shrugged. _I like the old one,_ Kumar thought to Maylen. _Let him come with us. I am coming down now._ Maylen narrowed her eyes but made no comment, and brought her horse up along beside Frode's. They continued at their slow trot.

"Now, as I was –" Frode was cut off by Kumar swooping down to Maylen's shoulder. The phoenix gazed at Frode with intelligent eyes, who stared back as if looking at the rarest treasure in all of Alagaësia.

Frode pulled his horse to a stop and asked Maylen, eyes on Kumar, "What is his name?"

_I am Kumar._ The Phoenix projected his thoughts so all of them could hear.

"It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, Kumar," Frode said, bowing his head. Kumar raised his beak and shuffled his wings a little. He wasn't used to being shown such courtesy.

"Well," Maylen said, a little briskly, making Frode look at her, "We'd best be going." She drove her horse Lily into a trot, and the others followed. Kumar pushed off her shoulder and pumped the air, gaining altitude faster than the fastest hawk. Frode watched with shining eyes.

"To think I should live to see the first Phoenix in centuries and its Tamer…" he murmured. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, then shook himself and mumbled, "Sorry, thinking about… never the mind. We shall continue with our story." But his eyes followed the soaring Kumar as he resumed talking.

"You see, the first Phoenix nest was found over one thousand years ago by an elf named Faldrin. Amazed and awed by the sight of the glorious eggs, which at that time he thought were mere pretty rocks, he took one back to his village, an elf town deep in the great forest of Du Weldenvarden. I have forgotten the name." he pondered for a moment, then said, "Faldrin's fellow elves too were in awe for a time, but eventually the 'stone' faded out of their minds, as it did nothing of great importance. One night, however, it hatched for Faldrin, revealing that it was not a mere rock indeed, but a Phoenix egg, one of the rarest spectacles at that time, next to dragon eggs."

Maylen, though extremely interested in the tale, felt she must ask; "Why was this not in any of your books? Is it written anywhere?"

Frode's brow darkened, and he replied, "Indeed it was written in many books, once upon a time, but events led the king of Alagaësia at that time to have them all burned, and eliminate all evidence and stories of the Phoenix Tamers. I am getting to that," he added sternly, making Maylen flush and lower her eyes. They carried on at their steady pace for a few moments.

Then, "As I was saying, the egg hatched for Faldrin, and as he reached out to stroke its alien head, a symbol appeared on his palm. It signified the eternal bond between a Phoenix and his or her Tamer," he spoke quietly, with purpose, and looked at Maylen expectantly. "Show it," he told her.

Maylen gripped her horse with her knees to use both hands. She slowly, diffidently unraveled the cloth that wrapped around her left hand. Then she held out her open palm to Frode.

It might have been her imagination, but Maylen thought she saw a ruby eye flash in the head of the Phoenix tattoo as Frode gripped her wrist.

"Yes…" he murmured, "It has begun again… but for good or evil, I am not sure… my sight is shrouded, the future is unclear…" his words trailed off into incoherent mumblings. After a moment he released Maylen's hand. She wrapped it up again, perturbed. She didn't know why the tattoo bothered her so much, but she preferred not to see it.

"Anyhow," Frode said abruptly, "Faldrin named the Phoenix Ynèraith, after a beautiful red elven flower. The other elves were astonished at the hatching, and they all treated the magnificent bird with respect. However," and Frode's face darkened, "There came a day when Faldrin had to use magic, for some purpose that was not mentioned in the story I heard. As he called up the power in him, he found himself taken over by some force, one destined to do great and terrible things. It was the Phoenix," and Frode paused, looking grave. "Inside every Phoenix is a great power to do good, but deeper than that is a strange, very powerful magic that twists the mind of the Phoenix and its Tamer, poisoning them with arrogance and evil. No one knows why this happens when magic is called upon; perhaps it is because of the brief moment when the barrier between the real world and the world of magic is shattered, and the mind is open for any hidden power within to take over.

"So, when Faldrin used magic, he found himself overcome by the alien force, one that turned his mind and made him proud, haughty and very, very powerful. With one sweep of his arm, and a single uttered word in the language of magic, he killed his family, who were unfortunately in the house at the time. He left the house and proceeded to murder the rest of the elves in the village.

"But when he raised his hand to slay his love, an elf lady called Rayna, she stopped him by grabbing his marked hand and, at the cost of her life, reaching into his muddled mind to pull him from his perilous state."

Maylen was staring unseeing ahead, seeing in her minds eye the horrific events playing before her. She imagined herself wiping out all of her loved ones with the power that she had surrendered to, and looked over at Martusc's pale but calm face in gratitude. He alone had been able to bring her out of her immoral state days before.

"Faldrin was appalled and ashamed at his actions. Crippled by the loss of his love and family, He and Ynèraith fled the empty town and went deep into Du Weldenvarden to hone his magic, and to keep others safe.

"It was almost a hundred years before Faldrin came out of hiding, much wiser and more thoughtful than when he had first left his home. He went to the great elf city Ellesmèra and became very well known for his connection with his Phoenix. Soon elves were searching all over the Du Weldenvarden for these rare eggs. When the next few Phoenix Tamers came about, Faldrin spoke to them and forbade them to use magic, ever, unless they practiced on their own.

"Of course, the men and women Tamers were young and foolish in their choices, and one way or another ended up using magic, wiping out more and more of the elf race until they could be subdued. Finally, it was forbidden to look for Phoenix eggs, and the Phoenix Tamers were secluded from the rest of the elves. It was a dark time for the elves.

"The Phoenix Tamers came together as a Union, and decided to leave Du Weldenvarden to have council with the King of Alagaësia at that time. They told him of their banishment, and since in their corrupted state, of their power. The Tamers and their Phoenixes wished to have equal rights with the King." Frode grimaced. "It did not go over well. The King was perturbed by the daunting Tamers, and banished them from his Empire. He could foresee much blood and conflict if these powerful beings were allowed as much rule over the kingdom as he.

"The Phoenix Tamers, of course, did not take this well. They left, haughtily offended, and plotted in secret. The next day, the King was found dead in his chambers, bearing no marks to determine the cause for his death."

Maylen swallowed, dismayed by the power she held. She was sickened at the thought that something so evil was residing in her, waiting for the right time to strike. She had a wild moment where she considered committing suicide, as much for the safety of herself as for others, but knew how crushed her friends and family would be. And Frode seemed to think she could do good… otherwise, why would he have left the egg for her? Did he think she could master this power?

"It was an era of blood and conflict that followed the king's death. Many innocent people were slaughtered as the Tamers demonstrated their capabilities. They were trying," and Frode paused, looking grim, "To make it clear to the new king, the son of the former, that they were not to be bargained with. They were capable of killing many, many people…

"However, also at that time were the Dragon Riders. As powerful as the Tamers, though not as corrupted, the Riders sought to make peace in Alagaësia, especially when conflict was involved. They were immediately called upon by the new king and told to put a stop to this. If the Phoenix Tamers could not take his or his father's response to their requests gracefully, then let them be exterminated. It became a war.

"It was known as the war of Dragons and Phoenixes. It lasted one year, which was not that long for a war back then… I shall not go into detail. In the end, the Dragon Riders prevailed, and no Phoenix Tamers were left.

"After this, the king decided to cover up the story. He feared that the citizens of his empire would think him unable to control his kingdom without the help of others, like the Dragon Riders. He wished to be seen as a more 'capable' king than his father, who obviously didn't succeed in pacifying the problem of the Phoenix Tamers. In fact," and Frode made a face, "He had all of the scribes who had recorded the tale hanged, all of their stories burned, and placed a false tale in his people's minds: that the former king had died by means of a disease that comes by old age."

Maylen's eyes widened at this atrocity. That such a man would be so selfish as to cover up a story that might have made people doubtful of his power… she frowned and tuned back in to Frode's story.

"Fortunately, there were a few people who refused to believe these false tales, and set about forming a union they called the Organization of Truth. It was a small group; it consisted of barely more than fifty members, but they reached a few decisions that would not only ensure that the tale of the Phoenix Tamers would not die out, but also that there would be more Tamers in the future. You see," and Frode smiled for the first time during his narrative, "they alone believed that Phoenix Tamers could do good, not just bad. They had heard of the elf, Faldrin, who was able to live the rest of his life without committing crime. They set about to gather a few Phoenix eggs, and hatch them to eligible Tamers.

"This, Maylen, is why I set that egg where you would find it. This is why you are a Phoenix Tamer. The egg that Kumar hatched from was passed on through my family in the hopes that a new Tamer would be found. It was very secret, of course; none could know about the egg. That it has hatched, and in my time, too, is a miracle I had not dared hope for."

Maylen felt an odd emotion rise inside of her; it took her a moment to identify it: pride. She was ineffably pleased that she, out of all the people out there, was chosen to be the Phoenix Tamer for one of the last known eggs in all of Alagaësia.

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**Well, there you are! I'm sooo sorry about the long interval between updates, I'll try to get the next one up sooner!! **

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	12. A Flock of Birds

**Here it is! Chapter TWELVE!!! I couldn't believe it when I checked my reviews just ONE DAY after putting up the eleventh chapter: 79 reviews already! And 11 more than the tenth! I'm so happy… anyways, not to bore you with my tedious chatter. On to the chapter! **

**But first, replies to my lovely reviewers:**

**PrincessBob: five brownie points for you! Plus 1 for the review. Heh, that rhymes... anyways, yes, the whole idea seems VERY much like Eragon; however, trust me, you're in for a major plot twist in the coming chapters. Actually, I _did_ think of the tattoo idea by myself. I knew that Tamers should have something like the gedwey idnesia (or however you spell it) but I knew it couldn't be just like the story, so instead of a silver palm I put a flashy, fancy shmancy Phoenix tattoo. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Matt: because I said so. Thanks for reviewing!  
**

**Lichenstar: ahem, 'Ford' is a car, and there are no cars in my story invented by Henry Ford... that _would_ make for a strange plot twist, wouldn't it?... but I forgive you. I'd hoped there would be no loose ends. Thanks for reviewing!**

**dreamgirlhoo: five brownie points for you! It _was_ the war thing. Plus a brownie point for reviewing. check my profile for details.**

**Star Holder Commander: Unfortunately, it is their wyrds that assure them a fate whence they do not meet. (that was wierd...) It's a good idea, and I was considering it, but I don't like to mess around with Christopher's characters more than I need to. Thanks for the review!  
**

**Narnian Sprite: I love phoenixes too! I hope this was soon enough.**

**Darth Braelon: Thank you.**

**Coffee Grounds: five brownie points for you! plus one for reviewing! Yes, Maylen is accepting her position as... whatever you said. Eragon sometimes pisses me off too. Only sometimes. Other times he's so dreamy and wise... heh I'll stop now. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Vixen Hood: five brownie points for you! and one for reviewing! I guess we'll just have to see what happens, won't we? Though take my word for it: It probably won't be something you expect...**

**Frosted-Pink: History... one of my least favorite classes in school (though my teacher rocks), one of the most important things to a story. Thanks for recognizing that! Thanks for reviewing!**

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**N e ways, here's the chapter! cHaPtEr TwElVe...**

**Featuring:**

More history

A flock of birds

A family tale

**Read on! Review 2!****  
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The landscape passed behind them as the hours quickly elapsed. To their left, the plains spread to the horizon, the same landscape in every direction. On their right the steep slopes of the Spine passed by slowly. The air was alive with the sound of wildlife in the forests on the rises; the twittering of sparrows and finches, the caws of raucous ravens, the chattering of squirrels that darted up trunks as the trio trotted by on their horses. 

Along the way, Frode told them all about the history of Alagaësia, Phoenixes, and the different races in the land.

"The elves stay hidden in Du Weldenvarden," Frode explained at Maylen and Martusc's prompting questions. "Ever since Galbatorix took throne, they fled to the wood. Not much is known about them, but that they are acknowledged as the 'fair folk'."

"Why 'fair folk'?" Maylen queried.

"They are known to be more beautiful and graceful than any human; along with their enhanced features, the elves are stronger than the sturdiest man and more intelligent than the keenest of Werecats."

"Werecats?" Martusc interrupted eagerly, speaking for him and Maylen. "What are they? My father told me of them once, but not much…"

Frode looked amused at their enthusiasm. "Werecats are shrewd, magical creatures that often offer advice for those they think are worthy of it. They are not mentioned in many stories, so little is known about them. They have the ability to change forms, but do so seldom, preferring the identity of a cat."

"What do they look like?" Maylen asked curiously. "As a cat, I mean. How could we recognize one?"

Frode tilted his head thoughtfully. "Well, no Werecat looks alike. I can assure you, however, that when in human form they don't look entirely human; the same goes for their cat form. If you ever meet one, heed my words, and you could probably identify it."

Maylen had another question on her mind. Watching Kumar swoop and dive in the air far above them, she asked, "How large to Phoenixes grow?"

"Phoenixes never really stop growing," Frode said slowly. At Maylen's startled exclamation, he continued, "They do have a maximum height, but it takes them long to grow to that point. I believe that since Faldrin lived many hundreds of years, his Phoenix was as tall as a tree before he passed on."

"So," Maylen said in a small voice, "Could a Tamer _ride_ their Phoenix?"

"Yes," Frode told her with a smile, "After about half a year, a Phoenix could be ridden by their Tamer. Strangely, until many years have passed, they are unable to be ridden by any person other than their Tamer; the reason is unknown, but I believe it has to do with the bond between them."

Maylen cast her thoughts to Kumar: _Did you hear that?_

He did; he had been listening through Maylen. _Yes. It will be fun to show you what flying is like._ As he spoke, Maylen saw him turn completely over in the air, then plummet backwards towards the ground, revolving slowly. He spread his wings and leveled out fifty feet from the land and swooped upward again. Kumar sent a feeling of intense joy through their link as he pumped the air to gain altitude.

Maylen swallowed, her stomach clenching unnervingly. The thought of diving like that made her uneasy.

She rode in silence for a while, partially tuned in to Frode and Martusc's conversation about hunting.

"Indeed, yes," Frode was saying. "The elves normally did not hunt, but their bows were unrivaled. Made of a wood not used in these parts, the bows never snapped, and the arrow feathers were laced with magic that improved accuracy for a non-magic hunter; though they rarely sold their weaponry to any other than their own race or the Dragon Riders…"

Maylen was thinking about Frode's tale of the Phoenix Tamers. She still felt a cold shiver run up her spine at the thought of the brutal, merciless cruelties done by the Phoenix Tamers, centuries ago…

She heard Martusc talking about bird hunting, and was abruptly reminded of Kumar's vision when he had first hatched: her uncle, shooting at him with his bow –

"Frode," she said suddenly, "Were there people who actually _hunted_ Phoenixes?"

"Why yes," Frode said in mild surprise, as if she should have known this. "There were unions of the different races who scoured forests for any sign of Phoenixes; they were known as the Phoenix Termination Union, though just Termination Union to those who were not to know of the Phoenix Tamers. No bird was spared; they made sure that all of the Phoenixes were annihilated. Of course," he said deviously, "they were not as thorough in their searches for the eggs…"

"Frode," Maylen interrupted, a hollow, unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Was my _uncle_ part of that Union?"

Frode's demeanor changed instantly. He said soberly, "Yes, he was."

"Who were my real parents?" Maylen asked quietly.

Frode didn't say anything for a long time. A flock of birds rose out of a nearby cluster of trees and rose, twittering, into the air. Finally he said softly, "Your mother was the granddaughter of one of the Phoenix Tamers who murdered the first king. Your father was a part of the Phoenix Termination Union."

Maylen was stunned into silence. She watched the flock of birds swoop and turn in unison, flying out of sight beyond the hills.

She had never, ever thought that her parents were involved in the Phoenix Tamer affair. Now that she thought about it, she wondered how she had ever believed her aunt and uncle's story about her parents dying in a fire. How else would she have been able to communicate with animals through mind-speech? It must have been a trait passed down through her family. Finding her voice, she croaked, "What happened?"

"Your Uncle Theodore was your father's brother." Frode elucidated gravely. "Your father didn't know about your mother being a Tamer until after you were born. Your uncle saw her speaking to her Phoenix, Elijathor **(A/N: see bottom of page for pronunciation)**, deep in the forest by the Ninor river when he was hunting. Being part of the Termination Union, he drew an arrow and shot Elijathor as she tried to escape. Her death killed your mother as well."

Maylen realized that this must have been the scene she had witnessed through Kumar's eyes and felt an ominous shiver run up her spine.

"Your uncle brought her body back to the village with a story that she had been attacked by a bear, and he had only just been able to save her before she was consumed. He told your father the true story, of course, and he was stricken. He had never known that the very person that his union was trying to seek out and kill was his own wife. He committed suicide that night.

"After he died, there was this debate about you. You were barely a year old, and it was an atrocity to murder a child, but you were also the daughter of one of the convicted Phoenix Tamers. Since I was secretly part of the Organization of Truth, and knew of what had happened, I intervened and convinced your uncle to keep you, take care of you. And that, Maylen, is what happened."

Maylen could feel Martusc's gaze on her face, searching for her reaction. Maylen turned away. She felt sick to her stomach. To think that both of her parents had died so tragically… and that she would never really know them. She would have liked to meet her mother. Even when she believed the story about the fire, Maylen had somehow hoped that her parents had escaped, and run off and become lost, and she would find them in one of the villages they might pass through. Then something else occurred to her.

"Frode? Who _are_ you?"

Maylen watched him apprehensively as he sat silent on his horse's saddle, a myriad of emotions crossing his face, each of which passed too quickly for her to identify; was there grief? Happiness? Pity? Sorrow?

Finally he said softly, "I am your mother's father."

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**Elijathor: ell-LEE-ha-thor**

**Well? What do you think? Good? Bad? Sorry nothing exciting happened… I _promise_ they will reach Tierm by the next chapter. Speaking of Tierm -- no, I will not have Angela or Jeod in there. I'm sorry, but it is to a limited extent that I use Christopher's characters; besides, right now Angela is helping the Varden, and Jeod is on his pleasure cruise with Roran and the rest of Carvahal. Actually, by now the war of the plains might have begun… hmmm, there's an idea… (wink wink) My goal is 100 reviews by the fourteenth chapter! Help me reach that goal, peeps! See ya later!**

**Oh -- I almost forgot. I can not be certain that the next chapter will come before Eragon comes out (EEK!!) or after. It will most likely be after, but I WILL try to make it before. I can't WAIT!!! Shaphira looks SO cool! **


	13. Scar

**Hey, guys! Here it is, the thirteenth chapter! **

** I'm sorry about the huge wait, but I have an explanation! I dunno who else it hit, but a huge windstorm (another example of rising global warming!!) wiped out our power for six days! Some of my friends (you know who you are) got their power back earlier, and others got it back later! It really sucked. That meant NO COMPUTER, no lights for reading at night, showers were limited, the water was cold all the time, and no video games! Luckily, I wrote most of this chapter in a journal by candlelight (heehee, so old fashioned), so I was able to get this up reasonably quickly. Still, I mean, honestly, that power outage really took the fun out of the first week of winter break! Ugh. We should SO get school off this week for what was lost over break! ... of course, not gonna happen.**

**But before I continue with the story (and my ranting and complaining), review replies! Thanks so much for reviewing, guys, I was sooo amazed when I got over one hundred reviews when the twelfth chapter came up!**

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**lanthir1: why thank you! **

**Spirit Mornea: hmm, we'll have to see. I'm not quite sure about using CP's characters too much. Thanks for the review!  
**

**Nelarun: is the bombshell thing good? What exactly was the bombshell? I wonder if you will consider what happens next a 'bombshell'... thanks for reviewing!  
**

**daydreamin' angel: yes a cliffhanger! But it doesn't end there! PS: see my full eragon movie review (AKA: rant) at the bottom of the chapter. **

**Kagome Yushi Saotome: Here's the update! Cool name. For your other reviews: Maylen is 'May (like the month)-lenn', and yes, the referance was the war! Five brownie points for you!  
**

**PrincessBob: Interesting good or bad? Please say good.**

**alsdssq: Thank you! Your reviews are so nice. BTW, I've always tried to figure out what your name is. Is it your initials?**

**Vixen Hood: No, Frode was or is not a Phoenix Tamer. I didn't want it to be like Eragon, with Brom being a Dragon Rider.**

**DragonRider2000: Thanks for reviewing! Like I told daydreamin' angel, see my full rant of the movie at the bottom of the page.  
**

**Green-Eyes91: Thank you!**

**Coffee Grounds: hahaha very funny... I wouldn't've put it in there, though, cos like you said, it really wouldn't fit.  
**

**BlindSeer220: you know, I actually was at Borders (best place in the world for books and music!), and I saw this book that told all about the making of eragon, complete with character summaries and stuff like that. And guess what? Saphira had normal dragon wings, at first! There were pictures of her, and she looked SO COOL!!! I have NO idea why they changed it. There were a ton of things wrong with the movie. Like I told the others, see my full rant at the bottom.**

**bright black stars: Well, to answer your first question, her parents met the normal way; probably buying goods at a store, and they happen to bump into each other, love at first sight, that sort of thing. However, this is about their only daughter, not _them._ Second of all, it is not 'tammer'... I don't really know what that is... and third of all, yeah, it would have been wierd if the father had known; but since the mother loved him so much, she had to keep her true identity a secret cos it would totally ruin the relationship, know what I mean? lol thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you like my story.**

**Emerald Tiara: hahaha...**

**Frosted-Pink: Well? Tell me what you think of the movie! I saw it too... like I said before, see my full review at the bottom of the page.**

**dreamgirlhoo: HA!! I reviewed your eragon story! And it's really good! I can't believe it got that many reviews. I mean, that is SUCH a great idea. I like chocolate too. Num. And what is an 'endorphin'?**

**Star Holder Commander: I'm sorry this is so like the books. I'm glad you loved the chapter.**

**Lichenstar: hmm, maybe, I kind of think I'm going to write other stories after this, though. It is a great idea! You should write it for me.**

**Narnian Sprite: Here it is! (Did I mention that I really like your name? It makes me want to have sprite and watch Narnia... although the movie isn't really all that good...)**

**CaptainUnderpants92: hm, I don't think so... see, I kind of think that would ruin the books. But she does hear about Eragon, and... well, you'll see!**

**matt: her uncle was a Phoenix _Tamer _hunter, as well as a Phoenix hunter. But since Phoenixes were so hard to find, he was probably pretty occupied. You see, that's why he taught Maylen how to hunt -- he wanted her to become a Phoenix Hunter when she was older -- he wanted her to 'follow in her _father's_ footsteps', cos you see, he obviously didn't approve of her mother.**

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**Well, now that we're done with that, the story! Here ya go!**

**CHAPTER 13:**

**Featuring:**

A midnight interruption

A scar

An old healer

**Here you are! Hope you like! What I am putting in this chapter I was actually going to save for the last part of the story... but I decided to throw this in there now. Don't hate me for it! It's all part of the storyline.**

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If Maylen had been surprised that her parents were so different, she was dumbfounded by the fact that Frode – Frode! – was her _grandfather._

"But…" she stammered, confused, "I thought there were no Phoenix Tamers for centuries… how could my mum have been one?"

Frode smiled slyly. "Ah, you _thought._ You forget the Organization of Truth. We scoured forests far and wide, even ventured a few miles into Du Weldenvarden, and congregated with a few eggs. Apparently, once an egg is laid, the bird inside is ready to hatch, and keeps itself warm by the fire within itself until it feels the presence of its Tamer. The Termination Union knew this not, so they left the eggs behind to crack with cold or to stale without the warmth of the parents.

"I introduced your mother to the union a few years after I joined it; she was one of the few people who became Tamers to the Phoenixes we found. It seems that Phoenixes trust women sooner than men; that is most likely why Faldrin's egg hatched after several days of him keeping it, or so the stories say, and why Kumar hatched for you upon your very arrival."

"R-really?" Maylen stuttered, shocked. Then a small grin broke over her face, and she shot Martusc a meaningful glance, which he ignored, preferring to examine the clouds that slowly floated across the brilliant blue sky.

"Yes, really," Frode said with a smile. He squinted at the sky, then in the distance. "We should reach the valley that leads through the Spine by nightfall. At this time tomorrow, if ill-fate does not befall us, Tierm should be on the horizon."

Inspired by these words, the three continued on at a fervent pace; eager to be within civilization's walls once more.

When the moon was a glowing just above the peaks of the Spine, the travelers came upon a wide valley, blue and black with the night, that dipped downwards half a mile and stretched out to the horizon for several leagues, fading in the darkness. Maylen knew that leagues ahead the Spine continued, stretching all along the coast.

They made camp beneath the trees on the foothills of the Spine. They ate supper in silence, all aware but unwilling to discuss their quickly depleting supply of food. Before Maylen fell asleep, she bade Kumar to hunt for food. He concurred and took off.

Halfway through the night, Maylen jerked awake, assuming to have heard a twig snap nearby. She sat bolt upright for several minutes, and when there was no sound again, she lay back down – though not before pulling her knife out of her satchel and slipping it under her pillow. Uneasy at the thought that Kumar was miles away, hunting, she slipped unwillingly back into a shallow sleep.

Later, when the night was at its darkest hour, Maylen once again jolted awake at the sound of several fast, loud, crunching footsteps. Her thoughts flashed to the knife under her pillow, but before she could wrench it out, strong, think fingers grabbed her wrists and bound them behind her back with a coarse length of rope. She tried to scream but a large hand covered her mouth. Before she could struggle out of her captor's grip, whoever it was had gagged her with a foul tasting cloth, tying it tightly behind her head.

Horrified, Maylen could only abide as the person – no, not person – _urgal!_ shoved her against a tree, so she could see that there were indeed a band of ten or more urgals swarming all over their camp. She could only watch in panic as they tied and gagged Frode against a tree as well. _Wait, where's Martusc?_

Then she saw him; he was kneeling before a particularly large urgal, whom Maylen assumed was their leader, hands bound behind his back, looking rather cross and indignant. Only Maylen knew him well enough to detect the flicker of fear and pain in his dark eyes.

_Kumar!_ Maylen screamed with as much mental force as she could muster, but there was no reply. _He must be miles away; how am I going to contact him?_

At that moment the urgals finished tying Frode up against the tree. His eyes flicked to Maylen's, the emotion in them unreadable. She glanced back to Martusc, who was looking at her out of the corner of his eyes. Maylen felt an odd push against her mind, and frantically brought up her defenses. _Can the urgals use mind-power?_ she thought in confusion.

The horses, still tied up against a tree, snorted nervously as the lead urgal stomped his foot for attention. Martusc tilted his head slightly to glare at the beast warily.

"We know your secret, boy," the urgal spat in a deep, guttural voice. "You are to call your bird in now, or your lady friend suffers." Maylen's eyes widened in surprise – they thought _Martusc _was the Phoenix Tamer? – and she almost dropped her defenses. She quickly brought them up again as the lead urgal nodded at another beast, who drew out a short crude dagger with a twisted blade and shuffled over to Maylen, pressing the cutting edge against her cheek. At the very touch of the cold metal, fiery pain shot through her face, making her wince. The pain was enough to weaken the last of Maylen's defenses, and a strange presence broke through the mental wall. To her surprise, she heard Martusc's voice in her mind say rather crossly, _Don't block me again like that! It's hard enough trying to talk with the urgals._

"I'm sorry?" Martusc said coldly to the urgal. "What are you talking about?" As he spoke, his eyes flicked to Maylen, and he raised his brows significantly.

_I'm sorry,_ Maylen replied with her thoughts. Her eyes were starting to sting with the pain from the knife blade still being mercilessly pressed against her cheek. _What's happening? I can't contact Kumar!_

_He must be too far away… _Martusc's mental voice sounded worried.

"Don't lie to us, boy," the urgal growled. "You are to answer our questions truthfully!"

_Martusc!_ Maylen thought to him. _Tell them to let me talk._

"Where is your bird?" the urgal barked at Martusc.

_Tell them the truth!_ Maylen begged as blood began to dribble down her cheek where the urgal was steadily applying pressure to the blade.

_No,_ he thought to her. "My bird is out hunting," he told the urgal.

_Martusc…_

"Call it in," the urgal leader spat.

_Let me talk to them,_ Maylen insisted.

_No! They'll kill you._

_They'll kill me even if you don't!_ Maylen's eyes were watering with pain.

"I can't," Martusc said.

"Don't toy with me, boy. Call your bird!"

Martusc hesitated; then, looking straight at Maylen, he said, "Only my friend can."

The urgals looked around at Maylen in surprise, the burst into raucous laughter.

"Nice try, Tamer," the urgal's voice grated through the air. "Your fibs are worthless."

"You don't understand," Martusc said urgently. "_I'm_ not the Tamer…"

"Don't lie, boy!" the urgal barked.

_Martusc…_

"I'm not lying."

_Let me speak to them._

_No._

"Very well, then," the urgal spat. He nodded again to the urgal pressing the knife against Maylen's cheek.

The beast began to slowly, agonizingly draw the knife across Maylen's face. She squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered through her gag as pain, like never before, laced through her face. Blood mingled with tears dripped sickeningly into her mouth. She struggled against her bonds, but couldn't break free.

_Martusc…_

"Wait!"

The knife blade paused on the bridge of Maylen's nose. She squinted through tear-blurred eyes and saw Martusc, his expression dismayed, looking from Maylen's face to the lead urgal.

"Let… let my friend talk to you," Martusc told the urgals.

The leader hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Unbind her!" he ordered the urgal with the knife.

The beast hesitated, its foul head cocked undecidedly, then slashed the knife across Maylen's face as if to complete the scar. Maylen screamed in agony and fell sideways as the urgal cut through her bonds and tore out the gag.

She couldn't see. Blood and tears poured down her face as stars winked behind her eyes. She heard gruff urgal voices conversing angrily, but didn't really care; she felt on the verge of passing out with pain – a sharp jab in her side brought her to her senses – an urgal had kicked her. In the distance she heard an urgal voice bark, "Speak, girl!"

Spitting out blood and wiping her face with her sleeve, Maylen slowly pushed herself into a sitting position against the tree. She tasted bile but swallowed it down. Gasping and wiping blood from her cheek and nose, Maylen covered her injured left eye and squinted through her right at the lead urgal.

"Speak!" he ordered her.

"I…"

Then, to Maylen's amazement and joy, she felt a familiar presence touch her mind.

_Kumar?_

_I come, _came the reply.

"Speak!" the urgal kicked her in the shin, making her gasp.

Maylen slowly drew herself upright, clutching the tree to hold herself steady, until she was standing, leaning against the trunk. She thrust out her chin, gazing through her good eye at the urgal leader.

"There's one thing you didn't think of," Maylen whispered, licking her bloody lips. "That _I_ am the Phoenix Tamer!"

And just then, as the urgals stared at her in surprise, a beautiful note sang through the air.

Kumar, his feathers a brilliant ruby hue in the flickering firelight, swooped down through the trees and landed gracefully on Maylen's shoulder. He spread his wings and sang again, making the hairs on the back of Maylen's neck stand up. The urgals shrieked and covered their ears. The horses pranced and pulled at their ropes with all the commotion.

"Shut it up!" the lead urgal screamed at its cowering accomplices. "Cut off its damned beak! Make it stop!" but the urgals were beyond listening to their leader's orders; they were scrambling over one another, trying to get as far away from Kumar, who was still singing his eerie, melodious song. Maylen remembered with a shock what Frode's book on Phoenixes had quoted: _Its singing has long been claimed to drive away foul beasts and fiends._

Martusc was taking advantage of the commotion to cut his bonds on a fallen knife; then he leapt up and grabbed his bow and quiver of arrows leaning against a tree stump. Maylen hardly saw as he shot an urgal through the gut; she felt the world spin as she fell to her knees, dizzy with pain and a sudden exhaustion. Her hand falling from her face, she dropped to the ground. She was dimly aware of a hand gripping her shoulder and Frode's voice calling out her name urgently, but right now sleep seemed so, so welcome… even death would have been a relief… anything to get away from the stinging pain in her eye…

Maylen flitted in and out of consciousness. She could never keep track of time; each time she woke, she thrashed about wildly, calling out names, screaming and sobbing as her left eye throbbed with a burning pain. Then she would sink unwillingly back into sleep, and her dreams were dreadful, full of memories she had tried to erase from her mind…

_Her first pet, a young cat she had named Milo, lying dead on the street as a man with a wagon apologized over and over to her aunt and uncle…_

_The pain when she broke her arm falling on a rock when she slipped in the river Ninor…_

_The pain and remorse of shooting a doe that bravely refused to die with just one arrow over and over again…_

Maylen

_The bird dropped to the ground, the life snuffed out of it as easily as she would blow out a candle…_

Maylen, wake up

_Martusc cried out in pain, doubling over and clutching his stomach…_

Wake up

_Martusc stared up at her, tears of pain running down his face…_

Maylen

_Pain shot through her face, she couldn't see…_

Wake

_She couldn't see, her eye was burning, there was fire, she couldn't see…_

Up

_She screamed in agony as pain laced through her face…_

You have to wake

_It burned, it burned; she writhed and shrieked and called out for Kumar, for Frode, for Martusc…_

Up, Maylen, 'cause

_Pain, fire, it hurt so much…_

We need you

_Burning, stinging pain, she couldn't see…_

Maylen, I

_She pressed her hands to her eye, whimpering…_

I need you, Maylen.

_She was blind, she couldn't see, fiery pain…_

_Maylen._

_Kumar?_

_I am here._

_It hurts, Kumar, I can't see, my eye burns!_

_All is well – I am with you._

And somehow, with this comforting assertion, Maylen's pain faded… she was floating, drifting in blissful ignorance. Maylen sighed with relief – the pain, it was gone! and, at last, fell into a deep sleep.

Maylen was at first aware of the bitter smell wafting towards her face. She wrinkled her nose, which immediately sent a sharp jab of pain through her face. Coughing and waving her hand in front of her face to ward off the stench, Maylen slowly pushed herself up onto one elbow, and managed to squint through her right eye at her surroundings.

She was in a small, stuffy room, hot because of a cheerfully crackling fire on one wall and the fact that the windows were closed and the shutters drawn down over them. In one corner was a stove with several bunches of dried herbs tied with twine, and more herbs hung from the ceiling and from racks along the walls. A basin of steaming water sat next to the stove. There were also racks of pots, pans, ladles, spoons, cups, teapots, and other cooking appliances. And, in a rocking chair next to the warm, comfortable bed Maylen now lay on in the middle of the room, there was a short, grumpy looking old woman with wispy gray hair tied in a small knot at the base of her neck. She was holding a spray of gray-leaved herbs in one hand and a fan in the other, which she had been using to blow the revival herb's scent into Maylen's face.

"At last, she wakes," the old woman said in an exasperated voice, standing and hooking the bunch of herbs back onto a rack. "You have been asleep for two days. Two days! The _work_ you've put me through…" she snapped the fan shut and set it on a small table next to the bed.

"Where am I?" Maylen asked, puzzled.

"At my healers shop, in Tierm." The old woman replied grumpily. "I've been working on that scar of yours, girl, for the past _two days."_

"My eye!" Maylen exclaimed, her hand flying to her face. She felt a soft cloth that wrapped around her head, slanting across her face to cover her left eye and tying in a small knot at the back of her head. "It… why isn't it… but Kumar–" she snapped her mouth shut, realizing that the old woman couldn't know about –

"Oh, I know what you are," the healer said grimly. "And why your Phoenix's tears couldn't heal that scar, I know that too."

"Why?" Maylen whispered, horrified. "Where's Frode? And Martusc? Why have I been asleep for–"

"One question at a time," the other said sternly. "Your scar won't heal all the way because there was a poison on the weapon that marked you that makes the wound it inflicts last eternally. It is impossible to do more than reduce the pain it causes you."

Maylen swallowed, absorbing this ominous statement. Would she be blind in one eye _forever?_

"Your friends are eating right now; I sent them away because of your state. That boy, he would not stop asking me when you would wake, how were you, yak yak yak–"

Just then, the door burst open, and Martusc rushed into the room, Frode following behind, looking somewhat amused.

"How's Maylen? Is she–" then Martusc saw Maylen sitting wide awake, and hurried to her side. "Are you alright?" he asked worriedly, gripping her hand.

"I'm fine," Maylen said, smiling a little. Martusc hugged her, but stepped away very quickly, looking a little embarrassed, and let Frode walk forward.

"Bertha, you continue to amaze me," Frode told the healer. "How did you manage to wake her?" but he didn't wait for an answer, instead holding Maylen's hands in his, searching her face.

As Frode spoke, Maylen heard Bertha mumbling meekly, "Quite simple, really… just a whiff of revival herb… some sedative potion… simple, really…"

Frode was telling Maylen what had happened. "After you passed out, we took off straight away for Tierm. Unfortunately we arrived at night, when the gates were closed, but one of the guards was a friend of mine, and understood out situation, so he let us in. Then, Bertha here," he nodded towards the old healer, "She is…" Frode dropped his voice and glanced quickly at the tightly closed shutters on the windows, "part of the Organization of Truth. It didn't take much to persuade her to heal a gravely wounded Phoenix Tamer, the first one after her mother!" he smiled approvingly at Bertha.

"I didn't _really_ heal her," Bertha replied grumpily, though looking slightly pleased with herself. "Only partially. Enough so that the bleeding stopped." But Frode was ignoring her, and had turned his attention back to Maylen. Bertha's grumbles trailed off into silence as she began to cook something in a large pot.

"There are several large morsels of news that somehow did not reach Daret," he was saying, smiling slightly. "The first is that–" but Martusc cut him off excitedly, jumping at the chance to speak to Maylen.

"There is a new dragon rider! And he's against the king!"

Maylen gasped. "What?" she cried, shocked. "How do you know? Are you sure it's true?" Dragon Riders were often told of in tales, and were a faint hope for the people of Alagaësia of overthrowing the ruthless king. If the stories were true, they lived eternal lives, could become mages, and tried to keep peace in the land. But in the past, they had been wiped out by thirteen riders who had been known as the Thirteen Foresworn, led by the Rider Morzan. _And,_ Maylen thought, _They nearly wiped out the Phoenix Tamers, but that was because we… no, _they_ were evil, corrupted… still, if this one is on our side, it doesn't really matter if we are enemies, right? We're both against the king._

"Of course we are sure," Bertha snapped in reply. "The stories have been bouncing around for weeks–"

"Apparently," Martusc interrupted, "He is known as 'Eragon'. Sound familiar?"

"That boy, the one who came to our town for supplies, and had that reward on his capture!" Maylen replied eagerly.

"That's the one. And, he killed this Shade called Durza, who was working for Galbatorix. Now everyone is calling him 'Shadeslayer'."

"That's really… incredible," Maylen murmured, impressed.

"Not a _huge_ accomplishment," Bertha muttered. "Just have to stab them once, through the h–"

"It is, isn't it?" Martusc cut her short again – Maylen rather thought that he didn't like the old healer – "But there's more. You know the Varden, right?"

"_Heart."_ Finished Bertha tersely, shooting Martusc a glare as she began to wash some pots in the water basin.

"Yeah, I know them," Maylen said, glancing quickly at the healer, then back at Martusc. The Varden were a small group of rebels who would constantly siege the Empire, trying to bring down the king. Last she had heard, they were hiding somewhere in the Beor Mountains, a large range of mountains rumored to be ten times taller than the Spine (though Maylen silently disagreed with this notion).

"Well, we heard that the Empire found their refuge and waged war against them, and lost! That was where the Rider Eragon killed the Shade. The last that was heard of the Varden, they were moving to Surda, 'cause they couldn't stay in the mountains anymore, obviously. I guess they're going to make war again, at some point. We've heard that the Rider left them, for several reasons that I really can't imagine; that he was going to join forces with Galbatorix, that he had fled 'cause he didn't think they could win, that he went to train with the elves, rubbish like that."

"Although," Frode corrected him, "That last one is not so possible. It was tradition for human riders to train with the elves in Du Weldenvarden after they had grown sufficiently."

"That is enough!" Bertha barked, making them all jump. "My patient needs rest. Too much excitement after becoming fully conscious for the first time in a week is bad for her. Out, out." She started shooing Frode and Martusc out of the room, and closed the door behind them with a loud snap.

"A week?" Maylen asked Bertha curiously as she began to bustle about, mixing the contents of the now steaming pot and slopping some of the greenish liquid into a mug. "I thought you said I was asleep for two days."

"I meant a week!" Bertha snapped, bustling towards her with the mug. "Drink up, drink up." But as Maylen sipped the scalding, bitter potion, and the healer turned away, busying herself with washing the pot, Maylen thought she saw a tear glistening on the old healer's cheek. She was about to ask what was wrong when she suddenly was overcome with a wave of drowsiness. She set the mug down on the table next to her, realizing that it was a sleeping potion, and fell back on her covers, sinking immediately into the dark realm of blissful sleep.

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**Well? Review peeps! Please tell me what you think. And now, my eragon movie review:**

**Spoiler Warning: If you have not seen the movie yet, and don't want to know what happens, DO NOT READ THE BELOW PARAGRAPHS. Thank you.  
**

**First, good things:**

**--the music**

**--murtagh**

**--brom's personality**

**--the first 15 mins of the movie**

**... yeah, um, ok, that's it. Now, my rant:**

**First of all, the movie seemed really rushed. They left out tons of characters, such as Solembum, Katrina, the Twins, Orik, Elva, and the list goes on. Also, Eragon and Brom didn't travel to ANY of the cities they were supposed to, except perhaps something that looked like Dras Leona. Eragon and Murtagh acted really gay together -- they came out of the waterfall hugging eachother, for heavens sake! I mean, it doesn't sound bad -- you'd have to see it. And Murtagh was in like fifteen minutes of the complete movie, and he wasn't in half the parts he was supposed to be in! Arya was okay, except for the blonde hair, and that she wasn't really pretty, and the branch in her hair during the war at the Varden (what was with that?), and she flirted with Eragon, and, oh, must I go on? Let's see... Angela talked in third person all the time: "Would you like Angela to tell your fortune?" and she looked spoiled rich, with all the jewelry. And she lived in Daret, not Tierm. **

**Ah, I ALMOST forgot (sarcasm). Saphira. Hmmm. Not good. It wasn't just her wings that bothered me -- oh, about that, did you know that she had normal wings (all translucent and stuff) when they first made her? I saw a picture of her in a book, and she looked so cool! I don't see why they had to change it. As I was saying, it wasn't just her wings -- she was really sarcastic, almost rude, especially to Brom, when they first met. And she kept telling Eragon what to do, in their first flight: "Hold on, would you? You're supposed to be a dragon rider!" And what was with the growth spurt, when she first flew? I mean, that was just stupid. And then she like knew everything when she landed again... I have to stop now. I'm working myself up.**

**Luckily, me and my friends (ungrammatical phrase) have concocted an evil plan... muahahaha! Lichenstar knows exactly what I'm talking about. Hahaha... well, review people! And Happy New Year!**


	14. Penelope

**Hey guys!! Sorry for the long wait. Or was it that long? ... I don't know, but anyways! here's the next chapter for Dragons and Phoenixes. Yay:) **

**But before I begin -- I was just thinking about disclaimers. You know, I don't see why anyone would think that someone posting a story on fanfiction actually owns the... thing it pertains to. I mean, if like... J. K. Rowling wanted to write another story, why the he-eck would she want to post it on a _website?!_ Or if the makers of the Eragon movie (who should all burn in he--I mean, who should all be put in time out) wanted to make a little side-clip (I don't know if those even exist) about the movie, why would they want to put it up on a website? And besides, If say, _I_ said that I own Eragon... would you really believe me? Come on, would you?**

**... Okaay! Now that my second rant posted on this story is done, I will continue with... Revew Replies! Yay!**

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**BlindSeer220: Hmm, well, I obviously can't tell you what the plan is. But here's the update! And I believe that everyone (except for one or two) agree with me on the movie! BTW, I did check wikipedia, and that meerly infuriated me even more!! WHICH IS NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE!!!!!! ...ahem, I've stopped. Yes, the movie was _terrible._**

**CaptainUnderpants92: Thanks! And what's with the 'kinda'?!**

**Nelarun: I hope the bombshell was good. Yes, the family ties was a bit of a surprise, huh? LOL, Okay, okay, Murtagh wasn't _exactly_ how I imagined, but he was still _hot!! _lol...**

**PrincessBob: Thank you! And yes, you missed Martusc's first mind-speech... it was just a tiny part at the end of... chapter 6. Yes. Hope you like this chapter!**

**Emerald Tiara: YES!! What was with the vegetation???? I have no idea. Though, I guess it would be hard to find a huge, hollow volcano and build a big town in the middle. And the town looked really pathetic. Me's off on a rant again!! Must stop. Sorry... and yes, Maylen is blind in one eye now.**

**Kara Telza: first off: that's okay! I have short term memory loss too sometimes. Second: thank you! I'm very glad you like it. And that was my goal for the chapter! The vulnerability thing. Yea. Third: I almost _did_ die. I avoided looking at the computer for fear of bursting into tears. Okay, not really. Fourth: Lot's of people agree with me. Me and Lichenstar are still going through with our plan... Mwahaha! Ahem. Anyways. Thanks for reviewing!**

**sovereignty'd: YOU MEAN YOU HAVEN'T READ THE BOOKS?!?! Holy moly. You must. Heh, anyways, yes, I love stories with girls as the main character! Cool girls, that is. Not Mary-Sues. Me not likes Mary-Sues. Phoenixes are so cool. I love your penname.**

**Star Holder Commander: I think that you are the only one who dissagrees with me on the movie!! That's cool. I, however, am not a stupid person, nor am I lacking a brain, nor am I not opened minded. I'm glad that you liked the chapter.**

**Plutobaby494: Thank you! Here is the update!**

**aldssg: I'm glad you agree. The movie was crap, pardon the language. Yes, poor Maylen indeed. Here's the update!**

**Lichenstar: Our evil plot is going well, isn't it? I want to tell the rest of my reviewers once we're done with it. If we finish before I'm done. You'll see that Bertha's mistake was not entirely an accident in this chapter...  
**

**Coffee Grounds: Did I forget to mention how cute Saphira was as a baby? Oops. Of course, if I did, the rant would be about twice as long. She was adorable!! At the movie theatre we were at, the audience was all like, "Aaaw," when she did that cute head thing, where she like, raised her head, and cocked it sort of. I must drive my friends insane when I talk about her. Lol... anyways, Eragon was pretty annoying, and emo. The shirtless part was funny!! And Murtagh was HOT. Point-blank. I was practically swooning. -fans herself- hot hot hot. Yay for Maylen fans!**

**Frosted-Pink: Wow, that was one long review! Saphira did look like a chicken. On wikipedia, they described her wing feathers as 'sceathers', like scales and feathers mixed. Cool word. Lol but yea, I agree with everything you say!! I'm under the impression that there're very few people who liked the movie. **

**Kitty and Amethyst: Phoenixes ARE cool, I totally agree. Eragon is definetly in this, but not that much. I'm kind of afraid I'll mess up with something in the third book yet to come! I can't wait till it does. Off topic now.**

**Narnian Sprite: 'snrk'. I love that. For some wierd reason. Heh, anyways, I don't think Eragon will have his scar by the time they me--I mean, hmm, an idea -hint- !! Jeremy Irons was way cool. And Saphira was so cute. What was Durza's best line? He had a lot of really stupid lines in the movie... like, "Come! Taste the blood of your dragon!"... um, what was with THAT? Ew. It wasn't even a good _insult._ Let alone something that would annoy Eragon. I was like, "Ew," when I saw that for the first time. **

**Aria DeLoncray: Thank you! Here it is! I love your name. **

**Matt: Yes indeedy. The Organization of Truth isn't that big. The movei was stupid in general, grr. **

**Vixen Hood: ood? do you mean 'odd'? Yes, it was odd, I know. I_ don't_ know how they are going to even _have _a second movie, let alone third! I think we should take over.**

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**Well, here it is! I hope you like it. I considered this chapter funny in a way. I hope you like what happens.**

**Chapter 13: Penelope**

**Featuring:**

An unfamiliar voice

An eye-patch

Penelope... (ooh, the mystery is boggling you, I know it:P)

**Read and Review, peeps!**

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Maylen was drifting alone in her dreamless slumber when soft, distant voices tugged her into a hazy reality. She was only half awake, and didn't open her eyes, but she drowsily listened to the conversation going on behind her. 

"… It's _Maylen._ Get it right," Martusc was saying in a disgruntled voice.

"Sorry," said a light, unfamiliar female voice. "It's an unusual name. Hard to remember."

"It's not _that_ hard. And _shh._ Can't you see she's sleeping?"

"She won't sleep that much longer with _you_ talking so loudly right here—"

"Shush! You're talking louder than me—"

"Oh be quiet, we'll both wake her up!"

"…Well, don't you… _say_ or _do_ anything… stupid, when she wakes up, right? She'll think you—"

"Stop acting like you know so much about her, you _did _say you were only friends when you were younger."

"I know a lot more about her than you ever will," Martusc said in a quiet voice. "And don't you ever doubt that."

There was a pause, and then the unfamiliar voice said softly, "You _fancy_ her."

"Shut—your—just be quiet! I don't!" Martusc sounded flustered. Maylen smiled slightly, now fully awake, though her eyes… well, _eye_ was still closed.

"Oh, don't try to hide it. It's _so_ obvious. The way you look at her—"

"Will you shut it? I don't—just shut your trap, she's sleeping. She needs rest."

There was another silence, then light footsteps walking away. "You can stay if you like, my mum'll probably yell if she sees me out of my room," the unfamiliar voice said from where Maylen assumed was the doorway. She added teasingly, "Stay and watch your lady love if you—"

"WILL YOU—" but Martusc stopped abruptly, realizing he had raised his voice. The other person laughed softly and Maylen heard her footsteps leaving the room. Smiling, she slipped back into sleep, sensing a seething Martusc by her side.

She woke again a few hours later, and found herself alone in the room. She rose into a sitting position, wincing as the sore muscles she had not used in days screamed in protest. She reached out her mind to contact Kumar, but found he was too far away to speak with. Grumbling as tender muscles stretched uncomfortably when she stood, Maylen made her way over to the water basin and was about to splash water into her face when she caught her reflection.

Her ebony hair was a scraggly mess falling past her shoulders. Her skin was pale and she looked unclean, like she had not bathed in days (which she supposed she hadn't). But the thing that caught her eye was the soft red scarf that wrapped around her face, falling over her left eye, and the thin line of a scar slanting across her right cheek, part of it covered by the scarf, and ending at her left temple. She drew a hand along it, then felt the scarf; it was smooth and silky, comfortably caressing her face.

"I look like a pirate," she thought out loud, laughing quietly at the notion. _Though it doesn't make me look… bad, _she thought fairly. If anything, it enhanced her fiercer side.

_I _am_ a little… disgusted, _she thought, baring her teeth._ I look like a rogue or a thief; someone who has been caught in battle and has not come out unscathed_. Wrinkling her nose, she cupped water in her hands and rubbed her face, then her arms and neck. She found a bar of soap next to the basin and used that to wash her hair, then dried it with a towel she found hanging next to the stove. Feeling a little cleaner than before, Maylen stood, and felt her stomach clench with lack of food. She looked around and found a bowl of steaming stew on the oven. _How convenient, _Maylen thought happily, and sat down on her bed with the bowl, quickly nursing the warm broth. It was bitter, but she was hungry and when she was finished Maylen felt much fuller than a normal bowl of soup would have accomplished. Sated, Maylen stood and noticed fresh clothes folded at the end of her bed. A little perplexed at the consistency of these items, she changed. Wondering if she should leave the room, Maylen made her way to the door, but just as she was about to turn the knob, it opened under her hand.

"Good! You're awake again," Bertha said, briskly moving around Maylen to tidy the room. "Go into the dining room, there's some supper for you."

"But I already ate," said Maylen, watching a little guiltily as the old healer straightened the tussled blankets on the bed.

"_That_ was just some broth. You need real food in you. Now go; I believe your friends are eating now as well."

"What time is it?" Maylen asked as she entered the hallway.

"Suppertime! Now _go."_ Bertha slammed the door shut in Maylen's face.

Irked at the healer's rude manner, Maylen looked right and left down the hallway. Bertha had given no directions as to where the dining room was. Feeling lost and a little foolish, Maylen walked up to and hopefully opened one of the doors.

It was the wrong door.

The room was small and dark, with a threadbare mattress on a rickety cot in one corner, a small wardrobe across the bed, and a bedside table with an oil lamp that spread its dull, trembling light about the room. When the door creaked, a figure lying on top of the covers of the bed leaped up, turning towards Maylen.

The girl looked a few years younger than Maylen, with lank, greasy hair that fell to her shoulders and a thin, sallow face. She had once been pretty, Maylen realized. The girl had an expression of defiance and sarcastic amusement on her face, and at the sight of Maylen, she flipped her hair over her shoulders and grinned.

"I know you," the younger girl said, and Maylen recognized the voice as the one that had been talking to Martusc a few hours before. "You're that girl the old man and the boy brought here, with the scar." As she said this, her eyes traveled curiously over Maylen's face. Maylen felt uncomfortable, and began to close the door, murmuring an apology, when the girl leapt up again and held the door open.

"No, it's alright, I don't mind. Hi, I'm Penelope," she added cheerfully, holding out her hand and flipping her hair back again.

"I'm… Maylen," Maylen replied warily, taking the small hand in hers; it was cold. She drew her hand away quickly and asked for directions to the dining room.

"Oh, yes, it's two doors down," Penelope pointed.

"Er, thanks," Maylen muttered, and walked quickly in that direction. She felt the girl's eyes boring into her back, and then heard the door close softly. As Maylen reached out to open the dining room door, however, the knob turned under her hand once again, and Martusc stepped out. He jumped when he saw Maylen, and then recovered, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey," he said. "It's good to see you awake!" his eyes searched her face.

"It's good to be up," Maylen replied just as happily.

"I heard voices. Were you…?"

"I just opened the wrong door," Maylen said, moving around her friend and into the room. It was splendid, with red curtains on the windows, sculptures and paintings on the walls, and a long table in the middle decked with food.

"Talking to Penelope?" Martusc asked unenthusiastically, pulling out a chair for her. He did a very funny imitation of flipping long hair over his shoulder; Maylen laughed.

"Yeah," she responded, filling her plate with salad, roles, and casserole. It had been long since she had eaten such a wide selection of food. "Who is she?"

"What, you don't know?" Martusc didn't wait for an answer as he sat beside her, grimacing. "She's the daughter of that old hag, Bertha—"

"Oh, Martusc, she isn't all that bad," Maylen retorted, amused.

"_You _weren't stuck with her for seven days, and I never really got the idea that she much liked me. She kept shooting me glares like daggers, and would reprimand me for _everything,_ even eating too much."

"But she healed me," Maylen reminded him, touching her scarf. Martusc glanced at her worriedly at the movement, dropping the argument.

"Well, anyways, Penelope apparently has some sort of sickness," Martusc said, his fork hovering before his mouth as he spoke. "Bertha _dotes_ on her; when she wasn't taking care of you or eating, she would fawn over her daughter like… like… I dunno. The day you came, Penelope was out cold with whatever she has. As you can imagine, Bertha did not leave quite a good first impression that day, all grumpy with two knocked out patients on her hands." Maylen laughed, imagining. "Penelope became sick again four days after we arrived, and woke again on the morning of the day that _you_ woke up."

"Ah, that explains it," Maylen exclaimed after swallowing a bite of salad.

"Efpwai' wha'?" Martusc asked through a mouthful of food; Maylen cast him a mock irritated glance.

"When I first woke up, Bertha mixed up one week with two days when she was talking about how long I'd been asleep. When she looked away, I thought I saw her crying, too," Maylen added thoughtfully, dropping her voice. Martusc just rolled his eyes.

After eating a couple more bites, Maylen asked, "Where's Frode?"

Martusc swallowed his morsel of casserole hastily, and choked. He grabbed the water pitcher and gulped down several mouthfuls before gasping and wiping his mouth with a napkin. He turned and smiled sheepishly at Maylen's disgusted glare. "Erm, he went to talk to the cook, to ask if the there were any roles that _aren't _burnt._ I_ think they're just fine, just a bit hard."

Maylen curiously bit into her role, and found the crust to hard to break through. "I see what he meant," she commented, setting the role down dispassionately. At that moment, Frode came through a door in the opposite wall, calling crossly over his shoulder. "I don't care if it takes hours or days to put edible food on the table, just—" then he saw Maylen. "Ah! Awake again, I see!"

Completely forgetting what he had just been saying, Frode let the kitchen door close with a bang and sat down across from Maylen and Martusc. He smiled benignly and spooned beans onto his plate. "So, are you feeling better?"

"Very much, yes," Maylen replied. "I'm not that hungry though."

"Bertha made sure to feed you broth when you were unconscious," Frode explained. "You weren't to inclined to eat it, the first few tries. She had to force it down your throat with magic after a while!"

"She can use magic?" Maylen asked, slightly surprised.

"Oh yes, just a little. She's a healer, you know; has a touch of witch magic in her blood. She told me that her great, great grandmother was a mage."

"Huh," was all Maylen found to say. She hadn't really been that shocked. Most healers were able to use magic to some extent. She continued eating until her stomach ached.

"I think I'm done," Maylen groaned. She hadn't wanted to miss out on a single course; after eating jerked beef, fowl and lentil stew and campfire-cooked fowl, it was wonderful to eat a variety of foodstuffs again. Martusc looked at her in amusement.

"Well, that's good!" Frode exclaimed, leaning back and lacing his fingers over his stomach. "In a little while, when you've digested some, Martusc can show you the city. It's really a splendid place, Tierm," Frode added languorously. "Many-a-sight to see, and you might meet a few interesting people too."

"Sounds great," Maylen replied, enthusiastic. She didn't realize until much later that Frode's last sentence had more meaning to it than she'd first expected…

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**Ooh, what's going to happen? You won't know unless you review!! **

**By the way, I forgot to mention this last chapter, cos I was so worked up about the Eragon movie (grr). Along with finding the movie (grr) excruciatingly (yes, I've been watching American Idol -- go Simon!) horrific and mundane, me and my friends found it really quite funny. We were laughing pretty much the entire time!! I don't know if anyone noticed this, but Eragon and Brom wore tight black leather pants the entire movie (grr)!!! Omigod we must have really annoyed the rest of the people in the movie (grr) theatre, cos we were laughing the entire time. I feel so sorry for the people around us. There was this girl sitting in front of us who kept looking back in annoyance at me and my friend's fits of laughter. Lichenstar knows (once again) what I'm talking about. Lol... anyways, review! I command it!**


	15. Fortune Teller

**Hello again, people! I haven't written in a while, that's why the update took so long. I read this chapter over and over, and it still doesn't sound right… oh well, review and tell me what I need to change, pretty please!**

**Firstly, of course, review replies:**

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**PiNaYsKaTeGuRl****: I'm glad you like the name! Thanks for reviewing.**

**Bigfoot TI****: You _should_ be glad you haven't seen the movie! It was probably one of the most depressing movies I've ever seen that was based on a book :( Yeah, maybe the movie-haters will collaborate and make a new movie… I'll keep my fingers crossed!). Thanks for the review!**

**Ogro: Aha! Finally got an account, yay! I wish I knew what Final Fantasy was… it's a game, right? That's what I thought, at least… cos then I would review your story! Thanks for reviewing mine.**

**PrincessBob: Glad you did!**

**Coffee Grounds: I know what you mean! I mean, I get kinda annoyed when I can't hear what ppl are saying in the movie, but its not like it's the end of the world. Good that Eragon was PG, in a way then, huh? And ya, Maylen and Martusc aren't going to have a romantic relationship. Unfortunately, as I have the story planned out, they were never meant for each other. My family made marshmallow guns once, that was fun!! Mom, Dad, and I would be shooting each other, while my adorably annoying little sister walked around on all fours, eating marshmallow ammo on the ground. Weird… anyways, thanks for reviewing!**

**Draye: Of course it'll catch up! I love your story. Here's the update!**

**BlindSeer220: I considered that, but I agreed that it would seem too much like the book. She also never meets Solembum. Something else _does_ happen though, read and find out!**

**Kara Telza: Yah, I based Martusc on someone I know from real life… heh, anyways, she doesn't _exactly_ meet with Angela and Solembum…**

**Matt: Odd that you get to review twice on one story, lolz. Penelope is a very important character in the story, as you will find out in later chapters…**

**Lichenstar: Penelope's sickness will be explained in later chapters. It ties in with Eragon and Eldest, if you'd like a hint :)! Here's the update!! **

**Aslein: Yes, indeed! CP's a genius for inventing it. As for your opinions on the movie, I totally don't mind what you think about it!! I have a knack for imagining myself in other ppl's shoes, and I can imagine how hard it can be to make a movie exactly like the book it was based on. You're a film student? That is awesome. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Emerald Tiara: Penelope's case is not a unique one, if you want a hint as to why her state is as it is. Bertha does seem like a hard character to trust, doesn't she? Penelope's background shall be explained in time… anyways, thanks for reviewing!**

**Frosted-Pink: I love American Idol! My city really sucked, though, lolz. And I agree, sometimes I think that some ppl only go on there to be on T.V. And no worries—I like long reviews! Lol. Yeah, LotR wasn't too good either, other than the casting of Legolas (GO ORLANDO BLOOM!! Sorry.)! Saphira was adorable! Unfortunately, she didn't look a thing like I imagined her in the book, but oh well, her cuteness makes up for it.**

**Canada-Star: If you thought Eragon was good, that's totally OK!! I really don't mind what other ppl's opinions on the movie are. Sometimes I just get so self-centered that I need to shout my opinions to the world, lol—okay, not really. Thanks for reviewing!**

**CaramelBoost: You changed your name! Yum, I love caramel. How do you say it? I say "Car-ah-mel" but my mom says "Care-ah-mel"—we're always arguing about it… uh, anyways, YES!! Eragon was so bad!! Thanks for reviewing!**

**Narnian Sprite: Oh, that was it! I don't remember, I haven't read the book in a while. I usually just skip to my favorite parts. Durza had a ton of stupid lines in the movie. And yeah, Frode is one of my favorite characters… lol, I sound so conceited :P Here's the update!**

**alsdssg: Yeah, Penelope's a cool character, I hope. Simon is awesome!! With him, its like, you either really like him or hate him. Its pretty odd how so many ppl differ in their opinions of him. Paula is cool, in my opinion, but yeah, when she hears a bad audition, she does look stoned! No one really likes Randy, poor guy. He's like, neutral. Heh, anyways, since that has nothing to do with the story… on with the chapter!! Lol. (BTW, my city really sucked… if you live where I live, you probably know which one it was. Lolz)**

**Plutobaby494: Something close to that, and here's the update! Thanks for reviewing!**

**Nelarun: You live in Australia?! That is so cool! I've always wanted to go there. Eragon had hardly any publicity there? That's odd… maybe so many ppl didn't like it, they were boycotting the show, lol. Thanks for reviewing!**

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**Well! Now that I'm done with that, I'll continue with the story.**

**Chapter 15: Fortune Teller**

**Featuring:**

The sea

A necklace

Fortune Telling

**Here it is! R&R, peeps!**

* * *

"Where are we going?" Maylen asked Martusc for the fiftieth time. 

"You'll see," was the mysterious reply—again. Maylen groaned and gave up attempting to get anything out of him. She looked around, enthralled by the magnificent city. It was bustling and proud, with large white manors, stores with windows filled with merchandise, and carts being pushed along the streets by vendors who called their wares in voices harsh with much use. Many of the people walking along the main road wore elaborate and expensive-looking clothing, with gold- and scarlet-threaded embroidery and colorful hats with large feathers arching pompously over the rim. Far in the distance, the dull noise of the ocean surf thundered, just barely distinguishable.

Along with all the cheerfulness, however, Maylen sensed a deep grimness; this feeling was only enhanced by the fact that many people she and Martusc passed wore blades and rapiers in decorative scabbards belted to their waists. Maylen's small knife Bertha had lent her (grudgingly, and only with Frode's influence), hidden under her cloak, made her feel almost naked. One man they saw was fingering a large axe with a sharp steel blade that caught the sun; a rather intimidating sight. Maylen had heard that this grim fortification was due to the frequent pirate raids on the city.

After a little while of walking and enjoying the city, Maylen became frustrated. "Why can't you just tell me where we're going?" she asked Martusc, exasperated.

"We're almost there."

Maylen rolled her eyes and looked away. She noticed that a lot of people were staring at her, and realized self consciously that she must have been an unusual sight with her eye-patch. Hunching her shoulders and dipping her head, she tried not to look at anyone. However, she snapped her head up again when something flashed, catching her eye.

A vendor was standing in front of an alley, behind a cart on which a cushioned box filled with pendants, circlets, and other adornments sat. A couple other young ladies in extravagant dresses were chattering over the merchandise. With a soft moan, Maylen pulled away from Martusc to look at the gorgeous jewelry.

"Like 'em, miss?" the vendor asked eagerly. "'Ere's this 'un, pretty necklace with a real shaphire pendant. Eh? What der yer think?" but Maylen wasn't listening; she was eyeing a silver circlet, a simple chain with a small ruby drop in the middle.

"How much is this?" she asked the vendor, pointing to the circlet and looking up. It was then that the man seemed to notice her eye-patch. He stared for a second, a strange expression on his face, then composed his face once more and looked at the circlet.

"Ay, that, little miss? Hmm," the man scratched his chin. "Pretty 'un, dere, yesh. Real silver, y' knows. An' dat be a pretty valu'ble ruby, m'dear, yesh. Hmm. I'd say… twenty crowns. No more 'r less."

Maylen sighed unhappily. She could afford it, but it would eat up the rest of her money. Martusc rolled his eyes beside her.

"I can't," Maylen told the merchant sadly. "Oh, well." She turned away, Martusc eagerly following.

"Naw, wait der, little miss," the vendor called. "Lemme jus' speak ter m' wife, naw, I bet she'll 'ave some sort o' trinket fer ye." The man deftly locked the merchandise in a large box by the stand and locked it.

"Oh, no, it's fine, really," Maylen said, sensing an impatient Martusc by her side. "It's okay—"

"Naw, I'll only be a sec," the merchant assured her, and bustled into a house on one side of the alley.

"Why'd you do that?" Martusc hissed to her as they waited by the stand. "He shouldn't have to do this for you."

"Well, why not?" asked a rather guilty Maylen. "I _did_ try to stop him. We'll just see what it is, and I'll give him a few extra crowns." Martusc harrumphed and walked away to examine some small wooden sculptures that an old woman was selling across the street.

Maylen unclipped her coin purse from her sash when the jewelry merchant came out of the shop again, holding a small package in his hands.

"'Ere y' go, little miss," the man shoved the package into Maylen's arms. "Not as pretty as dat circlet dere, but I think y'll like it. Naw, naw," he said hastily, when Maylen tried to pay him. "A gift from me 'n m' wife. Always glad to give out ol' trinkets she don't wear no more."

"No, I insist," Maylen urged, pressing three crowns into his hand and closing his fingers over the coins with her own hands. "I won't accept charity from one as kind as you."

The man looked at her, startled, as if seeing her for the first time. Then he mumbled, "Well, arighty den. I surpose so." He dipped his head down and returned to the stand, and Maylen walked back to Martusc, unfolding the cloth over the jewelry.

"Oh, Martusc, look what they gave me," Maylen said, revealing the gift: a necklace, with a blue sapphire embedded with a small black stone as the pendant. "It's beautiful!"

"It's alright," Martusc replied gruffly as Maylen slipped the necklace over her head. She touched the pendant, and gasped as her hand gave a sharp jab of pain.

"What is it?" Martusc asked crossly, walking away through the crowd again. Maylen followed him, staring at her left hand, which was suddenly trembling violently.

"I… I don't know." She was wearing fingerless gloves which she tore off her left hand. The Phoenix Tattoo on her palm looked as normal as ever. Baffled, Maylen pulled the glove on again. "Must have pricked myself." The shaking slowly faded.

"Well, let's get going," Martusc said impatiently.

* * *

"Almost there," Martusc told her. "Just around this corner – ah." 

They were standing before a dock, which was guarded by two pikemen. Maylen walked as close as she dared to the guards, gazing in shock past them. It was the _sea._

The sea was a vast, sparkling blue desert that stretched as far as Maylen could see. Just beyond the docks, several large ships were anchored, bobbing slowly up and down in the glittering mass of water. The sun stretched tendrils of bright white light far across the water, caressing the sea with its warm, soft fingers of godly radiance. Far above, seagulls churned in the air, cawing, eyeing the docks below them. The sound of the waves crashing against the beach and docks was like a clash of thunder, overlaid with the sweet noise of splashing water.

Maylen stared at all the beauty for nearly a minute, soaking it all in. She had never been farther than Yazuac in her entire lifetime, and the most water she had seen in nature was the Ninor River. Seeing the ocean lying before her like the silkiest blue quilt was almost surreal to Maylen. A breeze gently pulled at her hair, and she turned to see Martusc grinning at her. His own dark hair was being tugged at by the wind, and the sun was illuminating one side of his face. Maylen smiled back and looked again at the sea.

"It's beautiful." The words fell from her mouth in a soft whisper. Beside her, she saw Martusc nod gravely.

"Yeah."

"I've never seen the sea before."

"Neither have I."

"So beautiful..."

"You just said that."

"Well, it really is."

"Not as beautiful as—" but Martusc stopped hastily. Maylen looked over at him curiously. He hunched his shoulders and pointedly avoided her gaze.

"We should be getting back," he said abruptly.

"Yeah, I guess so," Maylen said reluctantly, looking back at the sea. She glanced over her shoulder several times as they walked back, until the ocean was blocked from view.

On the way back to Bertha's house, Maylen saw an odd looking shop on the side of the road, unusual as it was right in between two large and rather fancy looking manors. There were vines growing up the walls, and the windows were boarded up. A once-merry sign above the door was faded and cracked and grown over by moss. Maylen paused and stared at it wonderingly.

"What's that place?" she asked Martusc.

He followed her gaze. "Oh, I dunno. Doesn't look like its open." He began to walk away, but Maylen was interested in the store. She walked up to it, looking around, and placed her hand on the knob.

"Maylen, what are you doing?" Martusc hissed, rushing to her side. "We don't know if it's open. It might be someone's house!"

Maylen scoffed. "Oh, come on. Does it look like a house?" she tested the door; it was unlocked. She slowly pulled the door open.

The inside was pitch black; Maylen blinked a couple times so her eyes could adjust to the sudden change of light. She stepped inside, and her shoes sank through an inch of dust. Throwing the door open wider to shed dim light into the room, Maylen made out a wide, messy room, cluttered with an assortment of odd objects. There were plants – cacti, vines, and small, stumped trees on shelves along the walls; there were pots and pans and herbs hanging in racks on the walls, rather like Bertha's sickroom. Small bottles of strange, colorful substances also stood in orderly rows on the shelves. On the ground were a number of eccentric objects. Maylen walked through all the clutter, approaching the counter. Martusc followed her warily.

"We should leave," he whispered urgently. "Really, let's just go. There's no one here, anyways."

"I just want to look around," Maylen insisted. Something drew her to the place. She wasn't sure what was so enthralling about the mysterious darkness in the shadows of the cabinets behind the counter, but just as she was about to walk around it, candlelight flickered into existence somewhere through an open door in the back wall.

Maylen backed away, nearly bumping into Martusc. Faint voices suddenly grew loud, coming from behind the door. "…nd we need to pack the herbs in air-locked boxes, and pack the cutlery—" The voice cut off sharply.

A dark form was silhouetted against the light from behind the door. From the way the body was poised, Maylen could tell that the person was wondering why the front door was open. Thoroughly thankful that she and Martusc were shrouded in darkness, Maylen began to back away towards one of the shelves, intending to hide and escape when she could, but her heel hit something, making a loud clanging noise that shattered the room's silence.

"Who's there?" a lady's voice called sharply; there was the sound of a striking match, and Maylen had to shield her eyes from the sudden brightness that was illuminating a young woman standing with an oil lantern by the back door. Another person came and stood behind the woman, peering over her shoulder curiously.

"What's the hold—ah," the second woman—an old lady with a mop of curly gray hair—said. "Just a coupl' o' kids. We're sorry, children, but the shop's closed. We're just packing up ter move ter a differen' city."

"Oh," Maylen said nervously, backing away towards the door, Martusc behind her. "Oh, alright then. Our, erm, apologies."

"Wait," the younger woman said as they turned to leave. "Wait jus' a sec—we haven't packed up everything, and I still need to—"

"Martha, no," the older lady snapped as the younger tried to walk around her. "We don't have time."

"Oh, please, ma, I jus' want to do it one more time, b'fore we move… please?" Martha begged.

The mother considered for a moment; then, looking resigned, said, "Oh, alright then, for th' _last time."_

"Yes, mother, of course," Martha said excitedly, and dashed back through the door. The mother rolled her eyes at Maylen and Martusc, who were still standing by the door, thoroughly confused.

"I do apologize," the old woman said, walking forward and holding out a wrinkled hand. "Th' name's Margaret. I s'pose m' daughter jus' wants t' tell yer fortunes, summing like that."

"Oh," Maylen murmured, mystified. "But, erm, I don't…"

"I'd like to have my fortune told," Martusc said brightly, nudging Maylen. He gave her a glance that said plainly, 'It probably doesn't work anyways, let's just be kind.'

"Well, that's good," Margaret said. "Martha's been all 'cited bou' this, ever since her auntie Angela taught her."

"Ah," Maylen said politely. The woman babbled on.

"Well, o' course, Angela ain't her real aunt. Jus' took Martha in as an assistant once, cos… cos… erm, well, we knew each other well." The woman paused for a second, looking a little guilty, then continued at a faster pace. "Martha dotes upon Angela, thinks she's the best pers'n she ever met. Ye, Martha's all 'cited 'bout this new skill o' hers, tries t' tell ev'ryone's fortune. Ev'ryone she meets." Margaret gave a short, barking laugh. "She said that I was t' meet someone one-of-a-kind someday in th' near future, right. I wonder who." Maylen felt her face grow warm, and exchanged a meaningful glance with Martusc. "She also said that I was going t' be rich someday, but not in money. Wonder what that means!" she guffawed again. At that moment the daughter returned, placing the oil lamp on the counter and tipping the contents of a small velvet bag next to the lamp. Maylen and Martusc approached her at the mother's urging.

On the counter lay several marbles, each a different shade of color, and with small engravings of symbols on the sides of each. In the flickering light of the oil lamp, some symbols stood out eerily; Maylen could make out a heart, a ship, a moon, and several other small etchings.

"These 'r some marbles m' aunt gave t' me," Martha explained, running her fingers over them. "They don't do much jus' as marbles, but when I speak the right words, they show a person's future."

"Sounds intriguing," Maylen said honestly, though still hanging back.

"So you can tell my future?" Martusc asked; Maylen could tell he was striving to keep sarcasm from his voice.

"Sure, if ye jus' sit right there," Martha gestured to a stool in front of the counter. As Martusc sat, the young lady swept the marbles into her cupped hands and shook them. As each shake became a steady rhythm, Martha closed her eyes and began to chant softly under her breath. Her voice grew steadily louder; she was speaking in a language neither Maylen nor Martusc knew. With a final barked word, _"Wyrda!"_ she opened her palms, and the marbles came clattering out of her hands.

Each marble rolled to a stop on the counter and, to Maylen and Martusc's amazement and shock, the symbols started glowing white. Maylen noticed that it was only the symbols facing up that glowed.

To Maylen and Martusc, the marbles seemed to just lie in a jumbled, nonsensical array. But Martha's gaze was moving over the marbles as if reading a book or examining a Chàd'l board. After several long minutes she looked up into Martusc's face, blinking hard.

"Do you want your friend t' here this?" Martha asked him. Martusc shrugged.

"I don't mind."

"Very well then." Martha pointed to a messy line of marbles with glowing white symbols. "These – see that, th' circle, and th' ship – those t'gether means that yer going t' live a full life with lots o' travel. That third marble, there, th' eye, means that yer going t' see a lot o' interesting things in yer travels." Martusc nodded, for the first time looking interested.

"This 'un… this 'un… the girl paused for a moment, staring at five marbles huddled in a rough square shape. Maylen could see the rough figure of a human, a bird, a diamond, a heart, and a shape that resembled fire as the symbols on the marbles. She felt her heart plummet. Did this 'fortune telling' thing actually work? Was she about to be found out?

Martha lay her palm on the marbles without disturbing their placement, breathed in deeply, and closed her eyes. A moment later her brows furrowed, and then she opened them, looking straight at Maylen. Her face clouded over with confusion and something close to recognition; Maylen took a step back, her face flushing, and Martha turned back to Martusc.

"These… at least, I think this is… anyways, these mean that there's someone important in yer life, that's what the diamond and the person mean. I don't know abou' the hawk, though… that's never come up b'fore. I think it jus' means this person is somehows related to birds, or summing. Maybe some sort of person who keeps birds… and then the fire thing, I dunno, but I guess, from where its positioned, like, that it has to do with the bird. And the heart is kinda obvious—this person is—"

"And, erm, what about those ones?" Martusc cut her off, pointing to three marbles grouped in a small triangle. Martha looked at him strangely before glancing down at the marbles. Her face fell.

"Oh, my. That there, the skull; it means death. It's next to th' sun, see, on the horizon, which means that a death is near. Th' hand holding th' knife an' pointin' it towards itself means that its gonna be a sacrifice… in short, someone you know is gonna… die soon, and they'll do it on purpose… t' save you."

Martha looked up to see Martusc's reaction. He was looking confused and slightly worried. Maylen wondered if he was taking this seriously. She certainly thought that this Martha was putting up a good show if she was lying. If this was all true… Maylen refused to think about who the death pertained to.

"There's one other thing," Martha said, looking over the array of marbles, some of which were starting to dim. "This here, the clashing swords, they mean that a battle is coming close. There's another skull there, too, next t' th' star; it means that someone close to you is gonna… die.

"An' that's, erm, all," the young fortune-teller ended lamely, looking back up. Martusc seemed frozen in his seat, his eyes flicking over the marbles. Then he stood, smiling at Martha.

"Thank you," he told her. "That was very… interesting." He moved back, and Maylen came forward, taking out her purse nervously.

"How much…" she began to ask, but Martha flapped a hand at her, saying, "No, no, its quite all right. I tell fortunes fer free."

"Well, it was lovely to meet you all," Maylen said, nodding to her and Margaret. She and Martusc made their way out of the building.

As soon as they were out on the street, Maylen asked Martusc, "Well?"

He was quiet for a moment, looking around, before continuing down the street. "Well, what?"

"What did you think? Did you believe her?"

Martusc laughed. "Believe her? Well, I dunno…" he looked thoughtful for a second. "It seemed pretty realistic, and…" he looked sidelong at Maylen.

"I know," she agreed quietly. "The person thing, with the bird. I know it was… it was me."

Martusc looked grim. "If she got that right, at least it looked like it, then I wonder if the other stuff about the deaths and stuff was right. If it was… well," he gave a weak chuckle. "My near future doesn't look too bright."

Maylen nodded. They walked in silence for a while, weaving their way back to Bertha's house.

* * *

They paused on the threshold of Bertha's door. Maylen looked at the sky; the sun was just above the horizon. She turned back to Martusc. 

"The gates close at sundown, right?" she confirmed.

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'm going to see…" she looked around surreptitiously, and continued in a lower voice. "I'm going to see Kumar. I'll be back in a couple hours."

"Alright," Martusc agreed. "Oh, and Maylen?" he called as she began to make her way back down the street.

"Yes?"

"Just so you know… Penelope doesn't know about… about you. So don't like, say anything when you get back." Martusc told her. Maylen nodded, and took off again at a fast pace through the city.

* * *

**So, how'd you like it? I don't want Maylen and Martusc's relationship to be too romantic. They like each other, yes, but they weren't really made for each other. As you will find out in the final few chapters of this story, something happens that will tear them apart, forever… well, enough with the suspense! Review or I won't update!!**


	16. Leaving Tierm

**Hey, what's up? Here's the next chapter; I _was_ suffering a writer's block****, but then I realized that I hadn't yet written a chapter describing what was going on on the _other_ side of Alagaesia. Well, not really the other side... whatever. So anyways, I suddenly found myself inspired to write again, and here's the product: another chapter I hope you guys will enjoy!! ... just read and you'll find out what I'm talking about!**

**BTW, you guys all know that Eragon came out on DVD yesterday, right? YAY!!!! I read on Shurtugal (this REALLY awesome website dedicated to Eragon---if you haven't already, check it out!) that the bonus DVD containing all the deleted scenes and stuff was way better than the final movie. The deleted scenes apparently contain the clips involving Katrina and Roran, Elva, and The Twins (dun dun DUUUUN)!!!! I was SOOO freaked out that they had forgotten Elva, 'cause otherwise, how would they make the second movie?!?!?! ANYWAYS before I begin the chapter, here's my review replies:**

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**sovereignty'd: Yes, you must read them!!! The movie won't suck otherwise, and then you won't have something to complain about. Ah, let me rephrase what I said last chapter...**

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**Okay, sorry, I just have to clear something up really quick. Maylen and Martusc WERE kinda meant for each other, in the terms that they get along well, and are kinda cute together. BUT something happens so that they won't be together for life as they should... we'll just have to find out later, won't we? -wink wink- I hope that most of you don't kill for doing it... but, it IS my story, and I can end it however I want... okay, I sound really snotty now, so I'll shut up ;P**

**Ah ham, back to my responses:**

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**ailan: Thanks! Here's the chapter.**

**PiNaYsKaTeGuRl: You're name is so confusing to type... its cool though, don't change it, lol. Ah, you're probably not as crazy as me when I'm hyper... especially hyper off coffee... YUM... um, anyways, yeah, here's the update!**

**Hatsue Cybanne: Thank you! And I haven't planned the story like that, however, it IS an idea...**

**Kitty and Amethyst: It's that dramatic? Lolz okay... and like I said to Hatsue Cybanne (above) my story line doesn't include much of Eragon or any of CP's other characters, but I was seriously considering the idea for a while.**

**Frosted-Pink: NO AMERICAN IDOL?!?! Ah, I probably shouldn't criticize your mom. Eh heh, yeah, so, have you seen it? Do you know Melinda Doolittle? I think that SHE'S destined to be the next idol. Her singing voice just sends shivers up my spine. I hope you know what I'm talking about. If not... just look her up, or something. Lol, anyways, thanks for the review!**

**Nelarun: Thank you! **

**Lichenstar: Yes, I love killing off my characters... okay, I'm not THAT sadistic. But ya know, a story is only REALLY heart wrenching with emotion when there's death, love, victory, or defeat involved. I never really feel my heart aching with emotion when I read a happy scene, where like, the bunnies all finally find the magical carrot, and are all doing the macarena. Diggin' what I'm sayin', sistah? Lolz I'm still trying out this Jive talk... its really wierd... And yeah, something happens that... well, you know the rest. Read my note 7 review responses above, I've explained everything there. Thanks for reviewing!**

**CaramelBoost: Lol, your review was so like Lichenstar's (above)!! that was funny. You both had sniffles and sighing and huffing. Haha... you must think I'm crazy, sorry, lol!! And I wouldn't predict the deaths just yet... It's most likely going to be someone you wouldn't expect... ooOOooh yeah okay I'm done. And thanks, I'm glad you liked that description!**

**Fallen Dragonfly: Wow, you were up late. Hmm, which surprise? Trust me, there's more to come...**

**Kara Telza: Yeah, thanks! I needed ideas and I knew that one: I couldn't steal CP's idea of dragon bones fortune telling, and two: Angela isn't the kind of character that would just hand out REALLY rare dragon bones to some girl who she taught a bit of fortune telling to. Eragon's with the elves in Ellesmerra (is that how you spell it? I don't think so...) right now. No, they're not involved in that battle; at least, that's not how I have the storyline planned out.**

**Coffee Grounds: Thanks so much!!**

**Ogro: Thanks! And yeah, I changed that typo, lol. Can't believe I missed that! It's like saying 'mouses' instead of 'mice'... or 'mooses' instead of... oh, nevermind. Uh hum, anyways, no, there's not another Tamer, it IS Maylen and Martusc in looove, but as I said before, something rips them apart... ah, the drama, lolz. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Plutobaby494: Thanks! Here's the update!**

**Emerald Tiara: Lolz, yeah. Was your school doing a play or something? My school just did Highschool Musical. It was... oookay. The girl playing Gabriella was an AMAZING singer, but the boy playing Troy was... well, not the BEST singer. It was still good. Cheesy, definetly, lol. And all of you are making these predictions! I guess we'll just have to see what happens...**

**Narnian Sprite: Mwahahaha, I know. What are you frustrated about? And here's the update!**

**Canada-Star: Thanks! Here's the next chappy!**

**aldssg: Again, see the above comment inbetween the rulers. We'll just have to see who dies, and who lives... and you see why it might have to happen? Lol anyways, thanks for reviewing!!**

**BlindSeer220: You're close, but not that close... thanks for reviewing!**

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**OKAY!! Done with that. Now, for the sixteenth chapter...**

**Featuring:**

A resentful family

Reunion between Tamer and Phoenix

Premonition

Leaving Tierm

**There you go! A couple hints as to what to expect... the death does not occur in this chapter, BTW. I've had comments in the past about the fact that my 'chapter featuring' thing gives away what goes on in the chapter. Do you guys mind it? Should I take it out? One other thing before I stop babbling and let you guys read: should I have my review responses at the end or the beginning of each chapter? Do you guys have a preference? I just don't know if you find it annoying to have to scroll down and search for the beginning of the chapter instead of me just starting off right away and I'm babbling AGAIN so I'll shut up now so you can read and review!!!**

**Thank you.**

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Jaime scowled at the hole she was supposed to stitching in her sister Maraline's sweater. She hadn't been paying attention; now she glared at the knot of thread caught in the corner of the hole. To top it off, the thread wasn't even the same color as the sweater. Grumbling, she threw the clothing aside, along with her needle and the small spool of thread she had been working with. 

Bored out of her mind, the seven-year-old went to the wardrobe in the girls' bedroom to find some other article of clothing to stitch. As soon as she threw the wardrobe doors open, her eyes fell upon an unfinished shawl draped over a shelf.

Jaime's eyes welled with tears. The shawl had been a project her oldest sister had been working on before she'd disappeared. _She_ had said that she would give to her, Jaime, once she'd finished it. But she was gone, to who knows where. Frustration and bitterness suddenly clouding Jaime's mind, she turned and kicked the rocking chair she had been sitting in, hard. A tremendous stab of pain shot up from her toe, but the chair seemed satisfyingly offended, swinging back and forth, so Jaime twirled away and left the room in a huff.

Entering the kitchen, Jaime found her mother baking lunch while Maraline sat at the table, sketching away quietly. Jaime stood in the door, rocking back and forth, until her mother straightened and turned from the stove, pulling off her oven mitts. She smiled upon seeing Jaime.

"Alright, dear?" she asked affectionately of her second oldest daughter. Jaime nodded and went over, leaning down to sniff the air around the oven, hands clasped behind her back.

"Yum, apple pie?" she inquired eagerly. Apple pie was her favorite.

"Yes, but that's for the neighbors. I heard the Royans are still upset over the disappearance of their son, Mar-_toosh_, so I decided to go cheer them up."

"I don't see anyone making _us_ apple pie," Jaime muttered without thinking. Her mother's cheerful facade evaporated, her mouth tightening into a thin line.

"Now, that's enough of _that_," she snapped, slapping her mitts onto a rack above the counter and dipping some roots into a water basin on the counter. "I forbid any more talk of _her_." She began to scrub the roots ruthlessly with a rag, though the vegetables seemed quite clean to Jaime. The girl frowned at her mother's abrupt change of attitude. Her parents had been ever so quick-tempered since their oldest daughter had failed to return.

"But… mother…" Jaime said hesitantly, "Why… why are you and Father so cold about… about _her _now?"

"You are too young to understand," her mother barked. "Now, go… go and sew like I told you to. Have you finished your sister's sweater yet?"

Jaime felt her frustration welling again. "No, I have not." She whirled around and left the kitchen to return to her room. She heard Maraline quietly get up from the table, gather her charcoal and tablet, and follow her to the bedroom.

As soon as the two girls were inside the room and Jaime had slammed the door shut, the seven-year-old suddenly sighed and dropped onto her mattress. "Why?" she asked her sister.

"Because mother and father believe that Maylen left us 'cause of an affair," Maraline replied quickly and simply. Jaime turned her head so quickly that her neck ached.

"What?" she exclaimed.

"You heard."

Now that Jaime thought of it, the idea sort of made sense. Maylen _had_ been rather distant the few weeks before she'd left. Could she…?

"Nah," Jaime said with fervor. "That _definitely_ doesn't seem like… like her." She still found it awkward to say her sister's name. Maraline seemed to have no trouble, but that was Maraline.

"I know," Maraline replied quietly, setting her tablet on her knees and holding her charcoal over it in a thoughtful pose. "But think about it; that boy, 'Martoosh' or something; he disappeared the same day Maylen did. Although," she added broodingly, "if that is what mother and father think, then why is mother baking a pie to bring to Martoosh's family?"

"She probably just wants to talk to them, to see what they think," Jaime thought out loud after a moment. "I dunno. Say, what are you drawing?"

Maraline cocked her head at her tablet. "I don't actually know. I think it's a bird, or a dragon. The picture just came into my head, and I decided to draw it before I lost it."

"Let's see," Jaime asked, feeling very Maylen-ish as she leaned towards her sister's drawing. The figure was the rough sketch of some bird, with a very long tail. It was perched on a person's shoulder. The details of the human weren't drawn yet, but the bird's head looked finished: most of the head was shaded lightly in with the charcoal, while a ring of white encircled the crown. The slightly curved beak was raised proudly. The rest of the bird was mere lines and shaded-in curves, with the lines representing the wings drawn halfway unfurled.

"Huh?" Jaime asked in confusion. "I've never seen a bird like _that_ before." And yet the bird seemed distinctly familiar… _had_ she seen it before? The memory was hardly there, it could have almost been someone else's… maybe in a dream?

"I haven't either," Maraline confessed. "I almost feel like I'm making it up. But something just makes me feel like drawing it." She abruptly dropped her talkative mood and fell silent, rubbing her charcoal stump here and there about the picture to add a line or accent a profile. Jaime sighed and went over to open the curtains, then curled up for a good nap in the spot on her mattress illuminated by the afternoon sun.

* * *

Maylen made sure that the city was out of sight before she called with her mind to her beloved Phoenix. _Kumar!_

_I am coming,_ came the reply. Maylen turned in slow circles, examining the sky above her eagerly, until at last a speck of red soared into her line of sight over the hills. Kumar let out a joyous call and furled his wings halfway, tilting his body until he was shooting towards his Tamer faster than the fastest hawk.

Maylen backed away several steps as her Phoenix swooped down before her, spreading his scarlet feathered wings twenty feet from the ground, pushing forward on the air to slow himself down. He landed yards away from his Tamer, but the distance was quickly compromised as Maylen rushed towards him and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his soft ruby feathers.

"You've grown!" was all she could say when they finally pulled apart, Maylen's eyes glistening with tears. And it was true; Kumar stood as tall as her now, his gorgeous head at level with hers. "But it's only been a week!"

_I grow quickly. But… your eye. Is it…?_

"My eye's alright," Maylen said quietly, touching the eye patch. "It doesn't hurt anymore, at least. But… I won't be able to see out of it again, ever."

Kumar bowed his head, his bright red eyes half-mast. _I am sorry I wasn't able to do anything about it._

Maylen was shocked. "What are you saying? There's nothing you could have done. Bertha the healer said that your tears were… that the poison couldn't be cured by your magic… Kumar, there's nothing you could have done about it. You tried, though, and _that's_ what matters to me." She lifted his gorgeous head and stared straight into his eyes. The black slits of his eyes widened as he gazed into hers. "It's alright, honest. Now… tell me what has happened with you while I was unconscious."

Time passed quickly as they shared what had happened to each other while they were apart. Kumar seemed very interested in the fortune telling.

"What, do you think it was real?" Maylen asked him after elucidating the event.

_I do not know… it is quite possible. Did the girl seem serious about it?_

"Yes… or she was just an excellent actor." Maylen gave Kumar an image of Martha's face when she was describing the 'sacrifice' that someone was going to commit in order to save them. She felt Kumar turn the image over in his mind, contemplating.

_It is a strange thing… and you say these symbols _glowed?

"Yeah."

_If it _was_ just an act, this Martha was unexpectedly close to guessing who you are. _

Maylen was silent for a moment. Then she nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know."

They both sat in companionable silence for a while. Then Kumar raised his head, looking at the sky.

_Should you be getting back?_ He asked. Maylen looked around, startled, realizing for the first time how dark it had gotten.

"Oh, no!" She swore quietly. "The gates close at sundown. I have to hurry!" She hugged Kumar anxiously, then turned and began running. "Goodbye, Kumar! I'll be back tomorrow."

_Goodbye, young one. _Kumar watched her go, leaping into the air to watch her as long as he could. When the darkness shrouded her, the Phoenix tilted a wing, swooping around, returning to the cliffs where he had slept for the past week.

* * *

Maylen arrived at Bertha's door just as the city was being blanketed in darkness. She pounded on it, breathing hard. "It's Maylen!" she called. 

A moment later she heard rapid footsteps, and then flinched as the door swung open, pouring light out onto the porch. Martusc stood there, looking thoroughly relieved at her arrival.

"You're back!" he said enthusiastically, ushering her inside. "How is he?" he added in a lower voice.

"Good," Maylen replied, still panting. "Where're the others?"

"In the dining room. We were just sitting down for dinner, wondering when you'd get here."

"Great, I'm starving," Maylen said as they walked down the hallway to the dining room. Upon entering, Frode let out a cheerful call, beckoning to her.

"Ah ha! The young lady has returned. Here, sit here." Maylen sat down next to Frode, Martusc sitting on her other side. Bertha sat at the head of the table, looking disgruntled as usual.

"You're late," she grumbled as Maylen filled her plate.

"I lost track of the time," Maylen replied evenly, cautiously avoiding the healer's glare.

The old woman harrumphed and dug into her plate with sudden and surprising vigor.

"Why the enthusiasm, Bertha?" Frode inquired with amusement.

Bertha didn't pause eating to answer. "Busy day," she answered quickly before stuffing her face with a role. Moments later she stood abruptly, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Must get back to work," she mumbled, quickly filling another plate with food before shuffling out of the room.

"Bertha's been in Penelope's room all day," Martusc muttered to Maylen. "Leaves only to get more medical supplies." He rolled his eyes and raised his fork again. "I tell yah, the _fuss_ she makes over a simple cold."

"It's not a cold," Frode said gruffly. Maylen and Martusc looked over at him.

"What is it, then?" Maylen queried.

Frode was quiet for a long moment, turning his fork over in his fingers. Finally he said softly, "Now is not the right time for me to explain it." Then he stood, nodded and smiled at Maylen and Martusc, and left the room.

Martusc turned with a perplexed stare at Maylen. "Now, what was _that_ all about?" he asked.

* * *

Penelope was having another nightmare. Figures flitted in and out of the folds of darkness behind her eyes; she thought she recognized some of them; she glided forward in her dream body to see… was that…? 

Suddenly the darkness cleared. She was standing in a forest hazy with the fog of dreams. Glancing right and left, Penelope saw shadows darting about trees and bushes, too blurry to make out. Straining her eyes, she gasped when she saw what the figures were: Urgals.

Horrified, Penelope suddenly found herself rushing through the woods like a bird, disregarding trees and plants and simply zipping through them to the other end of the wood. There she found herself on the crown of a deeply sloping hill, the valley below swathed in darkness.

Penelope suddenly realized what the dream was: it was another premonition, brought on by The Curse. Sobbing, screaming silently—she didn't want to do this! Not again, not ever! But… what choice did she have?—Penelope had no choice but to wait it out, and see what events unfurled before her eyes.

* * *

Maylen couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, making a mess of the covers of the bed in the guest room she was sharing with Martusc. The latter was breathing slowly and peacefully next to her. Something about his tranquility made Maylen smile slightly. She turned over and watched his face, the strong cheekbones, the long lashes, the skin a nice shade of tan. 

His brow was furrowed, however, as if he was experiencing a nightmare. His mouth curved downwards, and his shoulders tensed. Maylen watched in compassion as small drops of sweat beaded his brow.

She raised a hand hesitantly, wanting to brush the sweaty bangs from his forehead. Just as her fingers touched his face, however, Kumar's voice called to her in her head. Maylen jerked upright.

_Maylen!_

_Kumar, whatever is wrong?_ Maylen asked in confusion.

_Urgals!_ _Be cautious!_

Maylen twisted around, sitting on the end of the large bed. _Where are they? Are they coming here?_

_Yes, they are! They come in large numbers, at least one hundred of them. I can sense their intentions, Maylen; they are coming for you! Maylen, they _let_ me see their purpose!_

"Martusc!" Maylen whispered. The boy jolted upright, eyes unfocused for a moment, until he saw her. Immediately noticing the worried expression on her face, he crawled over.

"What's wrong?" he asked in concern.

"It's Kumar. He said that… that urgals are coming… for me."

Martusc was immobile for but a moment; then he sprang out of the bed, rushing to grab his boots.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Martusc hissed to a hesitant Maylen, speaking quietly so as not to wake Bertha in the room next door. "We have to—" but he was cut off by Kumar, who projected his thoughts to both of them.

_Stop! Maylen, they _let me see their intentions The Phoenix sounded thoroughly alarmed. _I believe that they _want _you to leave the city! Don't you see? It is an ambush!_

Martusc was still lacing up his boots. "Ambush or not, if they trap us in the city, not only will many others die along with us, but we'll be cornered. The only way out of Tierm is by ship, and Maylen and I both have no idea how to sail one."

_He has a point,_ Maylen told Kumar. _We will ride swiftly. We'll meet up with you as soon as we are out of view of the city._

Kumar was silent for several moments. Then—_Very well._ The Phoenix did not sound convinced however. _But hurry!_

Maylen promised her Phoenix that they would, then rushed to remove her night tunic and pull a fresh day one over her bodice, too much in a frenzied hurry to care that Martusc was in the same room. When she had also donned fresh slacks, she turned, then quickly and shyly whirled back around, as Martusc had been in the process of removing his tunic and slipping on a fresh one. Smiling quietly to herself despite the grim circumstances, Maylen bent to the task of tying up her boots, then stringing her bow just as a precaution.

When they were finally ready, Maylen and Martusc left the room, and went to the room Bertha had lent Frode. Ready to wake him up and tell him the news, they were surprised and relieved to find that he opened the door just as Maylen's hand closed on it.

"Let's leave, and hurry," he murmured to them as he closed the door behind him. "Kumar has explained the situation to me.

"Good," Maylen whispered, then, as a group, they quietly left the house and rounded it to the back, where the stables were.

"Bridle and saddle them; don't worry about provisions," Frode enjoined them. "We'll worry about food later." Maylen and Martusc followed his instruction grimly but speedily.

* * *

Penelope shuddered as Bertha laid a cool, damp cloth on her forehead. It was happening again. Once again, Bertha damned the man who had cursed her daughter. It was not fair that the young girl had to go through this… this torture. Foreseeing deaths and anguish and wanting to stop it so badly… but Bertha would never let her. She would never do anything to put her daughter in danger. 

Penelope's eyes flickered under her eyelids; she struggled weakly, feverishly against Bertha's arms that were holding her down, preventing her from rolling off the bed. Suddenly the girl sat bolt upright, brushing away Bertha's arms and twisting away to get out of the bed.

"No, no, no!" she shrieked when Bertha tried to calm her, grasping her arms to keep her from leaving the bed. "No, mother, it's horrible, there's urgals everywhere, their gonna die, they'll die!"

"Penny, Penny, slow down, you're not making sense," Bertha tried to soothe her frantic daughter. "What is wrong, dear?"

"It's Maylen and Martusc, mother!" Penelope cried. "They're gonna die, _they're gonna die_!"

* * *

Two tired guards stood at the gate when Maylen, Martusc, and Frode trotted up on their horses. The guards looked near exhaustion; it was easy for Maylen and Martusc to 'nudge' their minds, convincing them mentally that it was the most important thing for them to open the gates. They signaled to the soldiers atop the wall, and the gate slowly rolled open. The trio trotted out of the city and then expedited to a gallop. 

As soon as the city was out of sight, Maylen felt Kumar touch her mind, telling her that he was flying down. Out of the darkness he came; his silhouette was framed by the full moon for a moment, then he swooped down, like a shadow on the night sky. Maylen, Martusc and Frode watched in awed delight as he rocketed toward them, finally swooping in a wide arc above their heads and flapping quickly to match their pace.

_We must hurry._ The Phoenix cast his thoughts to all three of them. _I saw the urgals not a few hours from here. If we travel in a southeasterly line, we should just avoid them and be able to pass through the valley that cuts through the Spine._

"I agree with that proposal," Frode called to the other two over the wind and the pounding of their horses' hooves against the ground. Driven by the exhilaration of flying over the land on a sprinting horse and the fear of being ambushed, the three people and the Phoenix quickened their pace even more so.

* * *

"No, wait!" Penelope cried as she rushed towards the gates just as they were ever so slowly grating closed. "Hold the gates!" 

The gates did not stop moving, but Penelope was just able to slip under them on her horse. The animal was nearing old age and his legs were spindly, but he was the fastest horse the girl owned.

Her mother had only let her go after Penelope promised not to get herself involved if the premonition did come to pass, and after she saw for herself that their guests had indeed left in the middle of the night. Now Penelope pushed the old horse to its limit, flipping her hair over her shoulder so it would not whip her face as they rode. She could just make out three figures several hundred meters away, and she was not gaining on them. Their horses were probably much more fit than hers; Penelope could remember Martusc telling her that they had traveled a long way to get to Tierm. From where, she wondered? The boy had always been so guarded and quiet around her. And rather attractive, too. Penelope allowed herself a small smile, which quickly dissolved into a frown, as she remembered him and that Maylen going off into the city. Her mother hadn't let her go, for fear of another of her premonition seizures while she was in public. Penelope had rarely left the house ever that disaster years and years ago. Scowling, the girl was jerked out of her thoughts when her horse unexpectedly swerved to avoid crashing through a bush, and she decided to focus on her riding.

She had to reach them, and soon. Otherwise—and the visions of Maylen and Martusc dashing through a forest, casting terrified glances behind them while flaming arrows shot at them, danced through her mind—they would all die.

* * *

**Well, there you have it! I do hope you all enjoyed it. I hope to finish the next chappy soon, but I'm not sure when it'll come up... BTW, I'm really only seeing a couple more chapters of this story in the future. Sadly enough, the horizon is visible to me... I'm guessing that this won't pass 20 chapters. Sorry folks... maybe I'll write a sequel, though! I've just had soo much fun with this story... -sniff- now I'm all sad... Ahem, anyways, PLEASE review and tell me what you think!! The next chapter comes sooner the more reviews I get :D see ya all later! And thanks soo much for following my story all this time, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Literally! Thanks, guys!**


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